Pilot Episode
by jozb22
Summary: Lilyanna Michaels was an average girl, with an average life, and average parents. But when she wakes up in the back seat of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, her life is flipped upside down. Note: Takes place right after season five, but Sam's visit in Hell was briefer, and he kept his soul on the way back up. Also, no Ben and Lisa for Dean.
1. Parental Guidance Suggested

Never in my life had I ever been so angry with my parents.

It was an unusual situation, one that I had not had the ah- _pleasure_ of experiencing up to this point. My headphones were jammed into my ears to block out my dad's weird-ass music tht was playing on the radio of our hybrid. I kept my eyes shut in an imitation of sleep, which was only partially helping to shut down the car sickness that always accompanied my mom's driving.

It's funny, I'd always managed to ignore it before, as we would tell jokes or listen to some kind of radio program about something educational. With both parents working as college professors, there was always a lot of learning going on. And it never bothered me, up until today.

We were on a drive home from a vacation in Florida, heading back to upstate New York, to home. Which was exactly the opposite direction that I wanted to go. Where I wanted to be, back in the sunshine state, I had been offered an internship with an archaeological dig that would have let me spend the summer abroad, in Prague.

They hadn't let me go. Not just because of the fact that I was only fifteen. Not because they wouldn't be able to come with. Not because the Czech Republic was right next to Russia, which was not exactly the safest place in the world to be traveling right now. Because they disproved of the fact that I was interested in mythology and archaeology and anthropology at all.

Dad, always the scientist, the thermonuclear astrophysicist, had insisted it was folly. Mom, the literary and philosophy major, had claimed to have understood how I felt. She rationalized that the disappointment and anger was expected, normal, for someone who had just lost something that she had wanted. Rationalism.

 _Ugh._

It was easy enough to get along with her typically, as she used her understanding of human nature to make everyone happy, but sometimes, when she thought she was being understanding, it was a bit like talking to a brick wall spitting out figures about emotions.

I just didn't want to hear any of those facts anymore. Someone had a window open, and it was cool and dark in the night time air of North Carolina. I was laid across the back seat, on the passenger side. The music was loud, and the slow hum of the electric motor in our car, combined with the many uninterruptible hours in the drive ahead lulled me quietly into sleep.

* * *

 _Hello there! Just a piece I've been working on. I hope y'alll enjoy!_


	2. Wake up Missing

_"I am so glad to finally have the pleasure of meeting you."_ The voice came creeping through the darkness, what seemed like an immeasurable space made of nothing. I had no sense of feeling, no way to move my legs or arms. I doubted that I had them at all. This must be in my head. Or maybe someone else's? I didn't respond to the voice. It seemed like it was looking for me, searching somehow. As if it couldn't find me.

 _"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. Don't think that I_ can, _actually._ "

Who are you? I bit my metaphorical tongue. The voice had a strange quality, something…off. It was gruff, almost, with an accent that I couldn't identify.

 _"You're quite special, dear. Did you know?"_ He paused, maybe waiting for a response. Still looking for me, maybe? I still didn't say anything. What in the name of God was he talking about?

 _"No. Oooooooh dear. This is going to be fun."_ It sounded like the voice was amused. What was he talking about? Finally, I couldn't stand to not know any more.

"Who are you?"

As my thoughts echoed outward, a figure rushed to form out of a darker darkness than what I was surrounded by. _Shadows out of shadows._ He turned towards me, finally finding what he was looking for. He was a smallish man in a suit, with the scraps of a scraggly beard. He looked smug standing there, half a smile hanging, looking particularly devious. There was something wrong about him. I couldn't explain how I knew.

But I knew.

That man was _not_ human. I wanted to get away. Get back to my family, who I suddenly, absolutely needed.

"Honestly? The king of Hell." His eyes turned black, demonic, and I screamed, suddenly falling.

xx

I jerked awake, the scream dying before it reached my lips, heart hammering in my chest, my headphones gone, ears filling instead with an old rock song. The electric hum of the hybrid motor of my car was gone, replaced by a purr of an engine, deep and rumbling, almost in contentment, the ride somehow smoother, lower. The smell of leather matched the cool, black seat underneath me. It was still light out, although the sun was just beginning fade out of the rear window of the car.

Sitting in the front seat, were two men, both with brown hair, one's longer than the other's.

Driving, was a guy in a flannel shirt, only one hand on the wheel, his profile showing a strong jaw line, his arms muscled. Maybe late twenties.

Well, if I _was_ being kidnapped, at least it wasn't by some creepy old guy.

The man in front of me seemed to be reading something, pages turning slowly. He was taller than the driver, and seemed more at ease, not as stressed, more... Innocent, maybe.

I had no clue how to make myself known, or even if I should.

That problem was solved when the driver turned to talk to the passenger, and happened to see me instead.

"JESUS," he jumped, jerking on the steering wheel, the wheels screeching as the car pulled over onto a dirt patch off on the side of the road.

The passenger turned around to look at what all the fuss was about. His eyes widened and he looked alarmed when he saw me.

The car skidded to a stop.

"Who the _hell_ are you?" The driver asked.

"Who the hell are _you_?" I responded.

"Alright, this is just freaking great. Another problem lands right in the back of the freaking car. This does _not_ happen to anyone else," the driver said pointedly to the passenger. Oh, and just saying, I censored the 'freakings'.

You're welcome.

"What the hell are you talking about 'landing in your car' you were the ones who kidnapped me, _not_ the other way around," I snapped back, agitated by his tone.

"Why don't we just all get out and figure out what's going on," suggested the passenger trying to use a soothing tone.

I silently agreed, but waited for one of them to get the door for me before stepping outside.

"I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean. Trust me, we're here to help. We didn't kidnap you, I swear," Sam had a voice that made you want to believe him. Something about him seemed familiar to me. I couldn't put my finger on it, and I still didn't believe him. He got a cooler out of the trunk for me to sit on.

"I'm Lily. Lilyanna Michaels, actually," I said.

"Okay Lily. Do you know what happened?" He was leaning against the car, which I could now tell from the outside was a classic. Nice.

"I was driving home with my family. I fell asleep. Now, I'm here. And what else could've happened besides getting kidnapped?" I asked, saltily.

"A hell of a lot," Dean responded, rummaging in the trunk for something.

"We don't know yet," Sam said apologetically.

"What's the date?" I asked, looking again at the sunset. "And where are we?" I added.

"July 21st, just outside of Pueblo, Colorado," Sam replied, curiously.

"What time?" I asked.

"Seven thirty. Why?" Dean asked coming around next to Sam, and holding a flask. "You got a date?"

"It was nine twenty in North Carolina when I last checked the clock, before I fell asleep," I answered smartly.

"That means that you made it cross country in less than ten minutes," Sam said out loud.

"Way to go, Sherlock," I replied, rolling my eyes, but smiling that he had caught on so quickly.

"And you have no idea how you got here?" Dean asked, somewhat accusingly.

"None. Unless you count my abduction theory," I replied. My theory which had, effectively, blown to dust. Dean didn't even want me here, and Sam wasn't lying when he said that he had no clue what had happened. Their surprise at my arrival was real.

"Was there anything strange before you vanished?" Sam asked. "Weird sounds, lights, smell of sulfur?" Odd question.

"Nothing. It was all normal," I replied. "Well, except..." I trailed off, not knowing whether my dream had counted as real evidence.

"What?" Sam asked. "It's okay. We'll believe you," he said, when he saw my hesitation. Somehow, I knew that they would.

"I had a dream. There was this guy..."

"What did he look like?"

"Shortish. Had a beard. He was in a suit. Shiny shoes. And...His eyes turned black. He said he was the King of Hell. Had an ego problem. Not much else," I finished, my voice sounding afraid, even to me.

"Crowley," Dean growled.

"Lily, we just need to check something. Here, take this." Sam handed me the silver flask that Dean had been carrying earlier. I took it. Dean watched on, still suspicious.

"Am I supposed to drink it?" I asked, doubtfully.

"No. You don't have to if you don't want to. Just pour it into your hand if you'd rather," he replied.

I hesitantly unscrewed the cap, and poured out what looked like water onto my hand. Nothing happened.

"How old are you, Lilyanna?" Dean asked while he offered me a towel to dry my hand with. It was embroidered with a weird pattern.

"Fifteen. Almost sixteen," I replied, looking up at him. He had interesting eyes.

He exchanged a deciding look with Sam.

"Alright, princess. Back into the car," he said. "We're gonna figure this thing out on the road, it's getting dark." He cast a wary glance towards the woods behind me.

"Where are we headed?" I asked, standing up.

"South Dakota," he replied.

* * *

 _Well. This chapter happened. Thanks for reading so far. I hope you like what you see!_


	3. Sixth Sense

Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

All his years of hunting came with a sixth sense, a little voice in his the back of his skull that told him when something wasn't right. When to duck for cover. When he was being lied to. And right now, it was screaming.

She had passed all of the tests, sure.

The holy water hadn't worked. Not possessed. The pure silver the flask was made of hadn't burned her. Not a werewolf, or a skin changer. The spell sewn into the towel hadn't been activated, so she wasn't a djinn, or a witch, or a vamp, or a ghoul. She was corporeal, not a spirit. Everything argued that she was human.

But he just somehow _knew_ she wasn't.

Maybe part Faerie, he thought. He'd have to check next time they stopped.

She certainly looked like she could be, he reasoned, checking the rearview mirror for the fifth time that minute. She had a teardrop shaped face, and high cheekbones. A light complexion, blonde hair, eyes somewhere between green and hazel. No doubt about it, she was gorgeous, and small, almost sprite-like. She was asleep now, leaning up against the door.

Only fifteen, and it showed. So young. Not so much in her actions, or by the way she talked to them, especially when they first met. How she stood up to them, even when she thought that they were abductors, how she had even cursed them out.

Strong minded.

How afterwards, she had somehow known to trust them. That they could help.

They had asked and she had told, her parents were both professors, both wickedly smart. She was an only child, from upstate New York, coming home from a vacation in Florida. Sam was searching the internet for her records now.

"You got anything yet?" He asked Sam quietly, not wanting to wake her.

"Nothing, Dean, it's weird. Her parents aren't listed with the university website. No land owing records. She's not registered in any schools. There's nothing about the area she disappeared from. No missing persons reports, not for her or her family. Both of their phones are dead. So is hers. It's like she never existed," he finished.

The little voice in the back of his mind was screaming again.

"Nothing? Are you sure?"

"Not even birth certificates on her parents. Or grandparents," he said continuing to type into the search engine.

"Do you think...could she be like Anna?" He asked Sam, the thought suddenly occurring to him. Anna, the angel who didn't remember that she was an angel, who had lost her Grace.

"Could be. We'll have to get Cas to check it out, once we get to Bobby's," Sam replied.

"Sounds good. Get some rest, we're not gonna stop until we get there," he said, looking out onto the open road and wondering. Maybe there was something in Dad's journal...

XXXXxx

Sam was finally allowed to take the wheel after Dean had driven for another ten hours straight. He hadn't trusted Lilyanna enough to let himself fall asleep, in case she would turn out to be some blood sucking monster. Which it was looking like she wasn't. She passed all of the tests, and even had been able to touch the iron ring, meaning that she wasn't a Faerie like Dean had been hoping for. Now his best bet, Sam knew, was on being an angel, like Anna, who had lost her grace and her memories. Sam figured that he didn't want her to be human. Because, really, neither one of them would know what the hell to do with an orphaned fifteen year old girl.

What he thought, though was that it was something more along the lines of just a normal girl who had been subjected to some kind of spell, or demonic magic, or angel teleportation. He couldn't see any way that she wasn't human. She looked, acted, and sounded exactly like any normal teenager would. Any headstrong teenager that was. She was taking the loss of her parents hard though. Now she was looking out her window, and gazing at the scenery.

"You ever been out here before?" He asked, breaking the silence and almost making her jump a little bit.

"No, never been off the east coast," she admitted. "My parents weren't much for traveling."

That reminded him of something. He had always had a fascination with how normal families worked, since he had grown up in an a-typical, freak show reality.

"Did you get along well with your parents?" He asked, trying not to invoke too much feeling.

"Most of the time. But yesterday... I was mad at them. _Really_ mad. Probably the worst fight we've had since I can remember," she replied.

"What were you fighting about?"

"They don't agree with what I want to study. I was offered an internship abroad, and they didn't let me go," she said, sighing.

"What do you want to study?" Sam asked, half curious.

"Mythology. Folklore kinda thing. They thought it was impractical. Imagine if they could see me now," she said, a little bitterly, a little sad.

He had been against telling her what they did, that they hunted the monsters that lived in the dark, but Dean had been insistent that they should make sure she knew everything, in case something sparked a memory about what had happened to her.

There was a long silence, where Sam felt bad for dragging her into this. He felt terrible that she now had to leave her normal life, her friends, her family, if they weren't dead. But then again, it wasn't exactly his fault that she had shown up in the back seat, was it?

No. That was all Crowley.

This time, she broke the silence. She was starting to drift off again, her voice softer and less clear.

"Sam?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think... Do you think we'll find my parents?"

He felt a sudden compulsion to tell the truth, to not spare her any pain now. Because then it would come much, much worse later on. He pushed back the urge.

After a pause, he replied.

"I don't know," he said, quietly. "But what I do know is that Dean and I will keep you safe. I promise."

"Thanks, Sam."

"No problem."

He looked in the rear view mirror. She was almost asleep, leaning against the car door. Her green eyes were barely staying open. There was something so familiar about those eyes. Something he couldn't pinpoint...


	4. Home Away From Home

We didn't stop until we got to an old salvage yard in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, late the next day.  
The engine rumbled under me as I sat up and stared at the huge gated archway that led into the property, the words AUTO filling it, rusted out and nearly falling apart.  
We drove down a dusty path, lined with old cars. It must have been familiar to Dean, as he hardly bothered to look at the road, jamming out to a rock song that was playing.  
After a minute, we pulled up to a house on the edge of the junkyard. There was a guy standing out on the porch, leaning against the side of the house, a beer in one hand and a shotgun in the other.  
"Bobby!" Dean called, grinning. He was in a really good mood today for some reason.  
"Hey boys," Bobby called back. He was dressed in (you guessed it) a flannel over a t-shirt advertising a local bar.  
I followed them up onto the porch, my Chucks kicking up dirt, to where Dean shook Bobby's hand and they clapped each other on the back in a manly way. They filed in, which left me and Bobby alone on the porch.  
"You must be Lilyanna," he said, offering a hand.  
"You can call me Lily," I replied, taking it and shaking firmly, just like my dad had taught me. Dad...  
"I hear that Crowley's been giving you a piece of trouble," Bobby said.  
"Yes sir," it seemed like the right response. Bobby talked like a dad, somebody who you could lean on, but didn't mess with.  
"Well, any one who's been hassled by him is welcome here. You can stay long as you like," he said, turning to open the door.  
"Thanks Bobby," I said.  
"Get inside. We're gonna try to figure out what happened to you," he replied, holding the door for me, and then leading me towards the living room, where Sam was already waiting. Dean walked in behind us from the kitchen, carrying beers for him and Sam.  
"Start at the beginning. I wanna hear everything," Bobby prompted, sitting down comfortably in a chair.  
So I did. I had to backtrack a whole lot. Bobby wanted to know my whole family history. That I had no living grandparents, even though my mom's mom had only died two years ago. That I didn't have any aunts, or uncles, or great aunts or uncles. That I didn't have any siblings. That I had lots of friends. No boyfriend. A few almost enemies, but no one specifically who would have wanted my life thrown apart. How mine and my parent's phone numbers had been disconnected. That anything sent to their e-mails got rejected. It made me panic even more to be confirming these details. I felt like I was trying to give up hope of finding out what happened to them. But I continued to answer as best as I could.  
When we got to the part about where I wanted to go to Prague for the summer, I had to explain why.  
"I got invited to a dig to look for the lost tomb of Šemík," I explained. It's a famous Czech myth. Google it.  
"You study lore?" He asked, surprised.  
"If they gave out college degrees to fifteen year olds, I would already have my PhD," I responded. I knew almost everything there was to know about mythology and folklore from at least fifty different countries. As a kid, this had amused my parents, and my room was full of books, relics, and talismans (that I had always assumed were anything but real). As it came to choosing a real career path though, my parents had fought tooth and nail for something more practical.

By the time I finished with the story, Bobby had a few other random questions, ones even stranger than anything about supernatural phenomenon that might have occurred when I vanished, which was nothing, apart from the dream.  
Weirder questions like:  
"What's your earliest memory?"  
"Going to the mall with my parents to get a family photo. We had to sneak my dog up the maintenance elevator."  
"Do you have any pets?"  
"My dog died when I was six."  
"Can you play any instruments?"  
"Just about anything that I can pick up."  
"When's your birthday?"  
"October 2nd,"  
"Did you ever have braces?"  
"Never needed them,"  
"Allergies?"  
"Shellfish,"  
"When was the last time you got sick?"  
I had to think about that one.  
"I...I don't know." I replied hesitantly.  
"Don't know, or don't remember?" He pressed.  
"No, I can't remember ever being sick. Never that badly anyway," I said, surprising myself.  
Dean raised his eyebrows.  
"Never? Not even the flu?"  
"Well, I faked it a bunch of times, to get out of school or practice or whatever, but I've never actually been _sick_ ," I confirmed.  
"What about broken bones?"  
"I almost shattered my ankle playing soccer. In fact, my foot was totally pointing the wrong way," I frowned, recalling the memory. "But by the time I got to the hospital, it hurt a lot less, and the x-ray showed that nothing was broken. We assumed it had just been a sprain or something," I said. I remembered that hospital visit. My mom had held my hand the whole time, given me an anchor to help me get through the pain. Now there was no one to help me get through the pain of missing her. I had to find them, fast. There was a bit of awkward silence where all three of them were staring at me, even squinting, although they were trying to hide it.  
"Bobby. You wanna show me where you put that new relic you found?" Dean asked, obviously trying to get Bobby by himself far away enough from me that they could talk.  
"Sure," he replied, standing.  
The pair walked into the kitchen and started talking in a low tone that I couldn't make out.  
"Are they always that sneaky?" I asked Sam, who had remained with me.  
"Nah. Usually much worse. I can't tell you the number of times they've argued about me while I was in the room. It's just because they care," he remarked.  
Huh. So they _cared_ about me?  
They came back in, having completely forgotten about their excuse of finding some artifact.  
"Lil, there's someone who we want you to meet." Dean said. "He's gonna be able to find your parents."

 _Wow guys, this is pretty fun to write. I plan on keeping it up while I can, but with homework and all, I might not be able to post so much in coming times. Thanks for reading and for all of the positive reviews!_


	5. I Am No Man

It had gotten dark while we had been talking, and we moved up to a guest bedroom on the second floor that Bobby must have gotten ready for me before I came. Sam sat on a chair at a desk in the corner. I sat on the bed. Dean was leaning on the door frame. Bobby was out, getting some extra supplies or something.  
"Who is it I'm supposed to be meeting, exactly?" I asked, curious as to when they would be coming.  
"You'll see," Dean said. Thanks a lot for leaving me in the dark, Dean.  
"This is ground control to Castiel. Come in Castiel. We've got something we need you to look at, so get your ass down here." There was nothing.  
"CAS. Come on-"  
"I'm here," said a gruff voice from the corner.  
I nearly jumped a foot in the air. Standing in the corner was a man in a suit and tan trench coat, wearing a tie backwards. He seemed to be emanating power, the artificial light from the lamps in the room somehow drawing towards him, the shadows behind him grouping together, forming...  
"Wings," I breathed in amazement, not meaning to speak. He was an Angel. No one else seemed to notice his mojo, or the wings.  
"Who is this?" The angel asked, his gaze coming to rest on me for a long time. It was almost as though he was looking _through_ me. Creepy.  
"That's Lilyanna. We were hoping that you-" Sam was interrupted.  
"Where did you find her?"  
"She showed up in the back seat." Dean said.  
He turned to me. His eyes were a deep blue, and his unkempt dark hair matched the shadowy color of his now folded wings.  
"I am Castiel. Angel of the Lord." He introduced plainly. He almost showed no expression, his face carved into an emotionless slate. "Who are you, child?"  
"Lilyanna Michaels."  
"What more than that?" He asked. He must have been hoping for a deeper answer. Maybe something that Aristotle could come up with. I'm no Aristotle. More of a Voltaire myself.  
"Nothing. I mean-I don't know." I admitted. It was too hard to think that I was a normal human when no one else seemed to think so. But if I wasn't? What _was_ I?  
"Would you like to find out?" It was an interesting question. Did I want my normal life, or did I want the truth?  
The truth. It was too late to go back to reality now. I knew what was really out there.  
"Yes."  
"Then we will find out," he said, walking over and beginning to roll up his sleeve.  
"How much is this gonna hurt?" I asked, curious as to why he was doing it.  
"A lot." Castiel said seriously. Dean stepped forward, looking a little panicked.  
"Cas, I'm not really sure-"  
"It is necessary, Dean. And I will sedate her first, so she does not feel as much pain," he said.  
Sam seemed upset by what Cas was doing too. He looked like he was about to start arguing. It was _not_ helping my panic levels.

"Guys, I'll be fine. Really," I assured them. If they calmed down, it would be easier on me.  
"No. You won't," Cas replied.  
"Thank you Captain Sunshine for that insightful detail," I grumbled.  
"You're welcome," he replied seriously.  
I sighed.  
"Look. If I have to do this to find my parents, I'm gonna do it. With or without your permission. Nothing you can say will stop me. Or Cas. Right Cas?"  
He nodded his head a few times.  
"Alright then. Let's get this show on the road," I said, putting on a brave face.  
Cas stood in front of me, holding out his hand. I closed my eyes.  
I felt two cold fingers touch my forehead.

Then... Nothing.  
I cracked one eye open.

"Was something supposed to happen?" I asked hesitantly. It was like the whole room was holding its breath.  
"Yes." Cas withdrew his hand and looked at it curiously, tilting his head to the side.  
"And?" Dean asked, apparently also curious as to what hadn't happened. Or more like _why_ it hadn't happened.  
"My attempt was...blocked," he said, putting down his hand and looking up at me.  
Great. I could feel my anger growing. Just something else to keep me from finding my parents.  
"Blocked by what?" Sam asked.  
"I don't know. But this surely proves the theory that she is not a human," he said, like it was no big deal. No big deal that I was some kind of monster. I was _me_ though. Just a girl.

I stood up to meet his eye level. And came up a good foot or two short.  
"What the hell are you talking about?! And since when was that even a theory?" I asked, angry that they had kept me in the dark.  
Not human? There was no freaking way...

"No ordinary child of man would have been capable of deflecting my power. You can not be a human."

What was he talking about?! I was a _normal_ girl, with a _normal_ life, a _normal_ family, that I just wanted to get back to.  
"There is no way in hell that I am anything other than a perfectly normal person. I have spent all my life in school like a normal kid. I've got _friends_ and a _family_ and a _life_ , and there is absolutely no feasible way that I'm some kind of monst-"

"Lil. LIL." Dean interrupted my rant.

"What?!" I asked hotly. He seemed more panicked than I had seen him all night and was looking down with wide eyes at my feet.  
My dusty black Converse were floating a good two inches off the ground.

"ACK!" I yelled, dropping back onto the floor, tripping, and landing on the bed. Three sets of eyes were staring at me.  
I took a deep breath. No more panicking. Listen to what they have to say. Be logical. Damn it.  
My next question was directed at Cas.

"If I'm not human, then what am I?" I asked, hearing my voice sounding softer. Scared. _Pathetic._  
"I don't know. But I can find out," he offered, finally seeming a little more human, more accessible.  
"What do I have to do?" I asked.  
"You need to allow me into your subconscious," he said.  
"My-what?" I asked, surprised.  
"I need to access the part of your mind where there may be a clue as to your origin," he said.

I thought about it for a minute. My parents might still be out there...  
"Alright, but you might not like what you find. I'm not as innocent as I look," I warned, jokingly. Dean raised his eyebrows.  
"I will not pry," Cas promised, sensing my nervousness.  
He came and sat on a chair across from me, next to the bed within arm's reach.  
"Are you ready?" He asked.  
"I don't know," I answered honestly. I might lose everything from this. Who I was. Where I belonged. There was no going back after I knew who, or what, I really was.

My nerves must have really shown, because Cas somehow knew to comfort me.  
"This _will_ help us find your parents," he assured, quietly.  
Funny. He wasn't as cold as he seemed.  
I just nodded in response. I _had_ to find them. This was all my fault, somehow. I had to fix it.  
"Then I'll do it," I replied.  
"Good. Close your eyes," he commanded, placing his forefingers on my temples.  
Following his orders, the last thing that I saw, the last part of my normal, tranquil life that I could bear witness to, were the clear, bright, blue eyes of the angel Castiel, alive with the divine power that would bring me the truth after all of these years of lies.

 _Helloooooo guys! This chapter was a lot of funnnn to write. I know its evil, but I love leaving you in suspense! Anyway, lots of excitement to come! Thanks for reading and for all of the positive reviews! Love you all! xx_


	6. Holy Fire

For a good minute, nothing happened. The pair sat perfectly, almost scarily still, not even breathing. Like they were statues.

Dean exchanged a worried look with Sam. The returning glance said that Cas knew what he was doing. That they shouldn't interfere.

Another moment passed, where he seemed to think of something else.

His look this time was questioning, toward both of them. Since when do we care about her so much?

It alarmed him to think that in less than fourty-eight hours, someone had already gotten close to them. He saw the way Sam acted around Lil.

Like she was his little sister.

The problem there was that they didn't need a little sister. They didn't need a little sister to look out for. They didn't need a little sister to try and keep safe. They didn't need another member of the family for them to watch die. Hell, he could barely handle Sam, much less a little girl.

He looked back at the two.

Suddenly, Cas moved. His hands switched to his own temples, and his face contorted in pain. He started chanting in another language, eyes jammed shut.

Suddenly, a buzzing started, a hum of power, in a pitch high enough to shatter the window on the far side of the room and send the lights flickering. The room started to shake.

"Cas! CAS!" Dean called. It didn't do anything.

Sam caught a lamp before it had the chance to hit the floor.

Lilyanna still hadn't moved an inch, not a muscle, not even taken a breath.

The noise and shaking continued getting more violent. Cas screamed. His head jerked back, his eyes finally opening, beaming out golden light towards the ceiling.

A gasp came from Lily, her whole body moving with that breath.

Then all was still.

Cas's head bent forward, slowly, almost as though he was in shock. After a few seconds the small form of Lil fell forward, her face buried in his chest.

Dean was frozen. He could see that something had happened, was happening, and something, maybe that sixth sense in back of his head, told him not to interrupt this moment of calm after the storm.

Slowly, he began to realize that Lil was crying, the tears gliding down on the coat, her form shaking slightly.

And Cas...Cas was actually comforting her, holding her tightly and rubbing her back, rocking back and forth a little. The icicle angel actually showing some emotion.

 _Well, I guess miracles do exist_ , thought Dean.

Cas was softly whispering something to her.

The soft sound of her crying continued into silence for a few minutes longer, slowly getting quieter, gently fading away. Finally, Cas spoke, loud enough for them to hear in a language that was definitely not English. Maybe even Enochian.

And Lil was quiet for a minute, and again perfectly still.

Then she responded, her voice clear, speaking in the same language.

Can bent forward and kissed the top of her forehead, and she slowly went limp, falling to sleep.

He got up and turned away, slowly walking out into the hallway, Sam and Dean following, leaving the girl alone.

 _No._ Dean reminded himself. _Not a girl._

Something else.

And they were about to find out what.

 _Hey guys! So today wasn't the best day, but it ended up turning out kinda okay bc of this part. Thank you so much for all the reviews and for reading! See you soon!_


	7. Answers

Cas was still dumbstruck when they reached him a moment later.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean asked.

He nodded.

"That was... Unexpected," he said, seeming to realize where he was for the first time. Sam and Dean exchanged looks, of confusion and worry. It took more than just anyone to do that to Cas.

Back in the room, Lily made a noise somewhere between a moan and a scream. She grimaced and clutched at her heart.

Dean was halfway across the room before he knew what he was doing.

Suddenly, Cas appeared in front of him. And then they were back in the hallway again, Dean stuck with the sick feeling that he got whenever he was teleported.

He turned, but the door was shut.

"Stop, Dean. She's going to be alright," Cas said, looking pale, his nose beginning to bleed slowly.

"What the hell are you talking about?! She's in pain, Cas. What's wrong with her?"

"There is absolutely nothing _wrong_ with her," he replied, angrily. He was almost... Defensive.

"Then what would you say is going on here?" Dean asked, confused and agitated by Cas' sudden transformation into a control freak.

"Sleeping in that room is one of the most perfect, most deadly creations in existence," he stated.

There was a moment where the boys tried to puzzle out what he was saying.

"What, like the Terminator?" Dean asked, still totally confused. He really hated being zapped around by Mr. Brightside.

"They are called the Nephilim," said Cas. "The child of an angelic father and a human mother. They are very rare, especially these days. Human women are...Out of style. And off limits," Cas simplified, almost trying to look for a non-insulting phrase to use. Kind of failed.

"So then who's her father?" Sam asked, curious. And hoping that it wasn't someone that they had killed.

"I don't know. But he is most certainly more powerful than I am. He put a block in her mind, to keep her from remembering anything, or to keep out intruders. My guess is that as she aged, it grew weaker, until she had a moment of particular emotion. Then it chipped, just enough to let her be tracked. That was how Crowley found her. The break in the wall was small enough that I did not notice it until too late. As I was searching through her thoughts, I accidentally shattered the mental block, releasing its contents onto her for the first time, possibly since before she was born. It also acted in her defense. If I were any less powerful being, the absorption of that energy would have killed me. As I am, it was not... _Pleasant_ ," Cas finished, still seeming weary. Well, that explained the racket and glowing eyes at least.

"Wait, I thought her parents were both human. Lived in New York," Dean said. His policy was to question everything.

"They were only an illusion, created by her real father, designed to raise her to the best of her potential," he replied.

"Why would he bother to do that, if he wasn't bothering to take care of her himself?"

"Heaven is not a fit place to raise human children. He was doing what was the best for her. Angels care deeply for their own."

"What about her mother?" Sam asked.

"She has no memories of her true parentage. However, by her small size, I would guess that her mother died, and the baby was removed from the womb early. Much earlier than what could be survived by human infants. Nephilim are rarely so petite." He finished.

"What about Lily? What's happening to her?" Sam asked, looking at the door and wishing that he could see through it.

"Breaking the barrier in her mind triggered the immediate release of the truth. It was unsurprisingly a shock to her. I had to immediately comfort her, or she would have had the potential energy to destroy everything in a twenty mile radius. I... used her memories to do what her mortal parents would have done. It was very effective. Now, she is recovering from the overflow of information. Her body and mind are healing, regenerating, to better accommodate her new abilities."

The brothers looked at each other uncertainly.

"Abilities? Like... Like what?" Sam asked.

"She will have heightened senses, and can now understand any language known to man. It is most likely that she will be stronger and faster as well as more graceful. She will heal in less than half the time it takes for a human to. Aside from that, any other powers that develop will depend on who her parents are," he finished, looking right through the door to the sleeping form.

"So you're saying that we've got a teenage girl on our hands who might turn out to be able to shoot laser beams out of her eyes?" Asked Dean incredulously.

"Yes."

"How can we help her?" Sam asked, immediately.

"Do not disturb her until she wakes on her own accord. You may stay in the room, but be careful not to touch her. Any contact will transfer energy which will probably burn through your flesh, and possibly your soul. She has no control over her powers. Remember, the Nephilim are born as soldiers of God. They were the first heroes known to man. She is incredibly dangerous, and you should be careful to treat her as such. Call for me when she wakes. It may take several days."

"Sounds good, Doc. Just one more thing," Dean said, making Cas pause. "Any idea who her parents are?" He felt like there was something that Cas hadn't told him. In fact, he practically _knew_ it.

"I have a theory," the angel replied.

"Would you like to share with the group?" Dean prompted.

"I must first look for more evidence," Cas proposed.

And then he was gone, leaving nothing where he had been standing a moment earlier.

"Figures." Dean grumbled.

 _helloooooooo! How'd things? Good with me as well, thanks. SO a bit of a disclaimer here, I wrote this before the whole metatron and the nephilim killing thing and so guess what, this is what we're going with b/c we're just gonna assume that metatron was always a liar. Also, yes I read the shadow hunter series, but no, this is not that, and they will not have the same powers. Think angel but more with more badass visual effects. You'll see. Or read. Same difference. Ta!_


	8. Metamorphosis

Scccrrrrrrrraaatchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The sound was like a tornado, scraping the inside of my skull. Like when a loud song came on unexpectedly on my headphones and almost made me deaf for a minute.

Scccrrrrrrrraaatchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Again. It repeated. _What was that ungodly noise?_

Scccrrrrrrrraaatchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

It was familiar. Something that I had heard before. A noise that I had maybe even made.

Scccrrrrrrrraaatchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

It hit me.

The noise of pages in a book turning.

But not just that, magnified, a hundred, a thousand times until it was what I was hearing now, the horrible grinding, scraping, clutching sound. I had to focus in on it. Try to get it right.

Scritch.

Better. The sound was in reality so soft that it was almost unnoticeable. Someone was turning pages, reading a book. Probably Sam, waiting for me to wake up.

Oh, god. Sam.

My memories began flooding back to me.

I had been facing them in my dreams.

My parents were... Not gone. They had never existed in the first place. It made me feel better somehow, less missing them. Less lost without them. Knowing that their fate did not rest on my shoulders was a relief. I would miss them, but I had moved on. Now I knew what I was. I wouldn't belong with them anymore, even if they had existed in the first place.

Nephilim.

Over and over in my head. The word of the century. Who I was now.

No.

Who I always _had_ been.

Nephilim.

The child of an angel. As much conformation and change as the word brought me, it also came with curiosity. Who were my real parents? What would I be capable of? No one knew. It was a huge, gaping abyss, a question staring me in the eye.

And horrifyingly, it didn't stop there. What would I do now? I had no family. Nowhere to go. Not a dollar to my name.

I remembered Castiel, poor Cas, comforting me, holding me close to try and stop the storm raging inside of me before anyone else could get hurt. After I had almost accidentally killed him no less. In my defense, that part wasn't really my fault.

I'd pushed all of my questions into his head.

He had silenced me, gently, while I sobbed, feeling the worn, starchy texture of his coat against my face, collecting my hot tears, just before they vaporized.

'Hush. We are your family now. Sam and Dean and I. We will keep you safe. We will help you find the truth. I swear it. Hush now, it will all be alright.' It had ended after several minutes, when he had asked me if I wanted rest.

I had begged for it.

But even after I had been sent to sleep, I couldn't rest. It was all pain, red hot, horrible pain, surging through my veins, every breath, every heartbeat, every thought, every moment, as my body rebuilt itself from the inside. My head had felt white hot, my brain changing, moving to the way it had been meant to be, the pathways connecting more efficiently, the thoughts able to flow faster, smoother, brighter. My memory sharpening. It was all unfolding, giving me a feeling of standing up and stretching after being asleep for an eternity.

Over what felt like the span of an age, the rest of me began to change too.

The fire moved through me.

To my heart, which was lighter, stronger.

My lungs, which felt like they were suddenly gasping for breath after having been underwater.

My bones and muscles, my flesh itself, felt like it was unraveled and woven anew, lighter, almost hollow, like birds bones.

My eyes, which had burned like I had gotten acid in them. Now they would see farther, more clearly, than even my contacts had previously allowed me to. I wouldn't need glasses anymore. Just like Spiderman.

My ears were the last thing that I had felt, and were still honing themselves. I could hear the slightest whispers, from ages away. Bobby had a very squeaky mouse living under his fridge.

Everything was different.

 _Everything._

As I laid on the bed, I took moment to enjoy the relative quiet before I bothered to actually get up. I took a deep breath, feeling light as a feather. It felt good. I felt, for the first time, that I was comfortable in my own skin.

I opened my eyes. The afternoon sunlight in the room was shining in through the window, making the white ceiling almost glow. Maybe my eyes were just adjusting. A breeze was floating in lazily. Downstairs, Dean was checking the phone book for a takeout place. Bobby was in the living room watching something on television and telling Dean which places not to call because he had been banned from them.

Sam was sitting at the desk in the corner, leafing through a large text that looked incredibly old. He started when he saw that I was awake.

"Lily! Uh, are you- are you okay?" I involuntarily flinched a little at the sound of his voice. It was too loud.

I nodded slowly in response. I didn't trust my voice to speak yet. Might accidentally blow up the block.

"I'm gonna go get Dean. We were supposed to tell Cas when you woke up. Is that, is it okay if we call him?"

I nodded again.

Sam all but fled the room and went downstairs, calling for Dean.

Bobby walked into the room with the two of them, his footsteps creaking as he went.

They called Cas, who appeared the first time he was beckoned, without any cursing involved.

I couldn't hear him as he appeared the way I was tracking the movement of the others. He teleported soundlessly. Instead, I could sense his power, feel the radiant energy as he zapped in.

They spoke for a minute about how long I was out. Three days exactly. Then if Cas had any new information. He didn't. Or at least nothing to share. I got the sense that Dean didn't believe that he hadn't found anything in all that time. I didn't either. Then he warned them that I was still fragile. Yeah... I didn't think that I could stand, actually.

And they were on their way up.

 _Sorry this one's a bit short! My study hall's almost over and I'm rushing to get this out. Ta!_


	9. Piecing it Together

When they had walked into the room, Cas had actually taken a step backwards as he had caught sight of Lilyanna, sitting cross-legged on the bed, the sheets still wrapped around her. Her hair was somehow still perfectly straight, and it might have been a trick of the light, but Dean would have sworn that the sunlight was wrapping itself around her, or maybe she was wrapping it around herself. Either way, it didn't seem to be a conscious action. Cas must have seen something else though, because he nodded his head, almost in greeting, and spoke, again, in something that wasn't English.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice sounded stronger, clearer. Dean took it as a good sign. That, and the fact that she didn't accidentally kill anyone by speaking.

Cas shook his head.

"It wasn't your fault. The block keeping you from your powers had a defensive measure programmed into it. If I had not invaded your mind, it would have broken naturally; no one would have gotten hurt. I should not have been meddling."

"If you hadn't removed the block, who knows how long it would have taken to learn the truth. Thank you for doing it."

"You're welcome," he replied, sincerely.

"But still, Castiel, you should be more careful. Your life is worth more than a mistake in the mind of a girl," she sounded warmer now, chastising him, but also joking a little.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he replied, smiling.

"How you feeling, kid?" Dean asked.

"Good," Lily said, a little quietly. "I'm still...adjusting."

She seemed somehow hyper-aware now, starting at every small sound and movement, even if it was just a trick of the light.

"Do you need anything?" He asked, thinking about all the times that Sam had been sick or injured, and he had been left to take care of him.

She nodded.

"Some water. And maybe...Some clean clothes, if you have them. Mine are kind of...Gross." She was testing out her voice, almost.

"Leave it to a house full of men not to think of that. We'll fix you up with some," Bobby said.

"Thanks," she smiled.

Bobby left saying something about how hard it was going to be to find clothes that would fit.

"When you are healed completely, I will return again to give you training. Until then, do not exert yourself, and try not to experiment with your abilities. I know that you don't want to cause any more trouble," Cas said, getting ready to leave.

"Aye Aye Cap'n."

"I will also try to find information about your parents," he said.

"Sounds good," she nodded.

"Expect my return in two weeks. If anything happens-"

"Call you. We got it Cas. This isn't our first rodeo." Dean replied.

Cas nodded. Then he was gone.

"He's really worried about you," Sam commented.

"Yeah. I think he's really just scared that I'll blow up the tri-state area," she joked. Then she seemed to realize her mistake. "Or just the state, I guess. Not used to being outside of New York."

Sam looked like he was about to burst with questions. Luckily, he still had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. Dean gave him a look, just in case.

Bobby returned with a glass of water and some old clothes.

"It ain't much, but once you're back on your feet, we'll take you into town to pick some up. Let me know if you need anything else," he offered, putting the glass of water on the bedside table, and putting the clothes, folded, on a chair in the corner, closing the book on the desk and picking up the almost empty beer bottle that Sam had been drinking out of, leaving the room.

Bobby Singer, housekeeper extraordinaire.

"So, how you holding up?" Dean asked, intentionally leaving the question open ended so that she could decide what she wanted to-or didn't want to-talk about.

"I feel so much better now that its over. It's like...Being reborn, I guess. I don't know. Maybe I read too much science fiction," she smiled, shyly.

"Nah," replied Dean. "That's a relatively normal thing as far as we're concerned."

"Well, either way, I'm better than fine now. But..." She trailed off, not sure what to say.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked gently.

"Um, well, I can hear what's going on downstairs. Perfectly. Even the drop of a pin. And that's not all. I'm just so...Different. Not normal anymore, I guess," Lily trailed off.

She seemed older, ancient somehow. She had this sort of... sadness, something beyond her age, something that was almost painful to look at. As her mood changed, the lighting in the room almost changed with her. The sunlight had stopped shadowing her as she had spoken.

"Well, you fit in perfectly then," Dean confirmed. "Neither of us had ever had a normal day in our lives. I mean, look at us," he gestured.

"I know. I just don't belong anywhere. Not with my old family or friends. I'm not too used to it. And I really want to know who my father is."

"Don't worry. We won't give up until we find out," Sam promised, curious himself.

"Just hang in there. Try to get some rest," Dean told her.

"I will. Do you have anything that I could read?"

"I'll find something," Sam offered.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling.

Dean smiled and left.

Sam returned a moment later with a large book with very small words.

"If you need anything, just give us a call," he said.

"I will."


	10. Fitting In

She healed remarkably quickly. Cas had said two weeks until she was back to her normal self, but she was fine within five days. And up and about with a headache in only three. She had showed up downstairs for breakfast in her pajamas on the third morning. When Bobby offered her some food, she accepted a piece of toast and ended up eating three.

"You go ahead and help yourself to anything you want. Cas said your metabolism works extra hard, so you'll need even more calories to compensate," Bobby offered.

"Thanks," she said, gratefully grabbing a fourth piece of toast.

"Ye-ep."

She, at first, had watched and listened to what they did, where they liked to sit, and what they liked to do, before she intruded into their space, careful to stay out of the way and not to take up anyone's favorite seat.

Dean still thought that it was strange to have another person in the house. He would completely forget about her, only to find her sitting on a window seat and gazing out, or slouched in an armchair reading a book.

Sometimes he would talk to her. About normal kinds of things. About mythology she had read about. She was holding up alright, but at the same time, he wondered what their next move would be. And he could tell that she wanted to know that too.

You could see it in the way that she was always looking out the window, and down the road.

But, she tried to ignore her past, just like he always did, by keeping herself busy. By the time she had been awake for a week, there was a stack fifteen books high full of information that she had read. And retained. Her memory was extraordinary, and she had apparently already known a lot about mythology to start out with. She would ask questions about monsters that Sam and Dean and Bobby had killed, and they were happy to answer them. It brought back lots of memories, both good and bad, but they tried not to mind too much. If their pain kept her away from hers, then so be it. God knows they were used to hurting.

"Have you ever killed a banshee?" She asked once.

"Yep. Remember that one in Ohio, Sammy?"

"Yeah, but I'm surprised you do. You were pretty drunk," Sam replied.

"It wasn't that bad," he dismissed.

"Dude, you thought you were inside the TV. It was that bad," Sam replied seriously.

"Hey, that's actually *happened before, so I wasn't that far off."

She asked a lot about demons, Crowley in particular, and they were always careful to shut her down when she got to asking too many questions about him. Until they knew what he had to do with this mess, they didn't want her to get too invested in blaming him.

Angels were rarely mentioned though. It seemed that she knew a lot about them, or maybe didn't want to learn from the hunters. God knows they were a little biased. She only asked about a few as she came across them in books.

She was paging through a volume one day, when she suddenly realized something.

"Cas is really lonely." She said, just sort of stating it. "He doesn't think like an angel and he doesn't fit in with his own family. That must be hard."

"Cas can handle himself," Dean had replied from the kitchen.

"I guess," she shrugged. "All I meant was that he's like us too."

 _WHOAH sorry about whatever happened to this chapter before. I fixed it though. Sorry! And thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	11. A Rainy Day at Camp Winchester

The next week felt like I was at a summer camp. The boys had taken off from hunting for long enough to make sure I was okay and to try to find some info on who I really was, but while they weren't doing anything, they taught me what they knew. At least, some of it. Any time I asked about Crowley, someone abruptly (and _very_ tactfully) changed the subject. And for some reason, Dean wouldn't let anyone teach me anything about how to fight, even in self-defense.

In my second week off, I would find them while they were passing time, and pick up tips from them.

I found Dean out in the junk yard one day working on a car. He taught me the basics of fixing a carburetor.

"You driving yet?" He asked after he was finished, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

"No. I was just barely old enough to get my permit before I…" I trailed off, lost as to what to say.

"Well, I'll have to give you a lesson sometime. Bobby should have some lunch ready by now. Whaddya say we go find some lemonade?" He smiled, trying to remind me to forget about my past that I wouldn't be getting back.

"Okay," I replied, following him inside. I liked that he remembered that I didn't drink soda.

That night, I sat in on them playing poker. I had learned how to play before, from my grandmother (who apparently never existed). But I picked up a few good tips.

The next day, I watched Sam while he cleaned his rifle.

"Don't go getting any ideas," Sam said, when he saw me watching what he was doing. "Dean doesn't want you learning how to fight."

"I'm gonna _learn,_ but this isn't fighting. It's just _cleaning_ a gun," I pointed out.

"Well, I guess if you put it that way, I can tell you a little," he said. A little turned out to be the entire history of firearms and how exactly they worked, how to clean and fire them.

Bobby taught me about all kinds of devil's traps and anti-possession charms, along with an exorcism that I had memorized after reading through twice.

"For self-defense only. Don't let Dean know I'm teaching you this stuff. He's dead set on keeping you out of it," he said as I drew a perfect circle out in the dirt in the back yard.

"And no summoning anything. If I ever find out you did _anything_ to bring some ungodly son of a bitch onna my property, we're gonna have words, missy," Bobby had seemed insistent on this topic.

"Understood."

But I really came to learn that night, when they had gotten to telling stories about the crossroads demons they had met, and all the doom and gloom it had brought them. They made Bobby's somewhat cryptic message clear.

Sam had also taken me to the local mall, and I had gotten some new clothes, all t-shirts and jeans, nothing fancy. No trench coats, sadly.

I was sitting in my favorite chair reading, while everyone else was watching some kind of random soap opera one evening, when the light next to me flickered and went out.

"What the-"

"I'm sorry."

Cas was standing behind me. I could hear the buzz of the energy he brought with him loud in my ears, something that I couldn't do before. I was still improving. His wings were out behind him, made of shadowy feathers, and I watched as he subconsciously folded them.

"'s fine," Bobbly said from the other side of the room, in the chair nearest to the kitchen. The light turned back on.

"I have no new information to report regarding your parentage. However, I see that you are doing very well considering your condition when I last saw you." If he thought I was okay, then I must be doing better. Maybe I could actually start doing something productive. _Finally._

"Nice to see you too, Cas," Dean said.

"I didn't say-"

"I know, just being friendly," Dean said, quickly interrupting the angel's confusion.

"So what does that mean?" I asked, ignoring Dean, and wondering if my time of being bored really was over.

"I will begin your training. Tomorrow. You will need to learn how to use your new abilities. And how to fight," he said.

I tried not to look too pleased. Must have failed miserably.

"Whoa, hold it right there. She is not going to be doing anything that-"

"It is necessary, Dean. I-"

"Why don't we go have a chat in the kitchen?" Bobby said. "I'm sure Lily wouldn't mind waiting."

"I'll still be able to hear you from here. So no, I think that you can say anything you want right in front of me," I argued. Dean turned towards me, the shadow of the room creeping up, highlighting his eyes, somehow. They still felt familiar, even if I couldn't tell where I knew them from.

"Look, buttercup. Our life sucks. Its blood, and guts, and death, and Hell. I can't let you go through that. Keeping you defended is one thing. Teaching you how to kill is a whole other ball game," he said.

"And then what next? What happens when Crowley comes for me? Or somebody worse? Defending myself won't be enough," I argued.

"Then you call us. That's what we're _for,_ " he responded.

"Oh, so I'm supposed to sit around here my whole life so you can babysit me? No thanks. I'm not some kind of delicate flower. I can handle myself with this kind of training," I replied.

"I'm sure. Have you ever killed anyone, Lilly? Ever shot some poor bastard at point blank range? Ever cut someone's head clean off? It's not easy, putting out lives like that. I still get nightmares of Hell every damn time I fall asleep. You wanna live the rest of your life safe and whole, or like _us_?"

Dean _never_ mentioned Hell. Ever. I didn't have anything to say. No, I'd never so much as punched someone on purpose.

Cas spoke for me, his voice quiet in an attempt to soothe Dean.

"She is Nephilim. She will do these things regardless. It is in her blood to fight. And she's not wrong. As we now speak, Crowley is searching for her. It is imperative that she can defend herself when he strikes. And that we are the ones to teach her. You can't keep her safe forever, Dean."

He looked pissed.

"Like hell I can't. I know what this means. First, she learns how to fight, then she starts killing things. Then she's the one dead. Cas, come on. You know I'm right."

"Dean, if you do not give me consent to begin training her, I will take her away, and you will never see her again," Cas threatened. Dean looked murderous, like he was about ready to start throwing punches. I felt a jolt of panic. I had just gotten used to it here, and I wasn't about to leave because of Dean's stubbornness. He opened his mouth, but Sam spoke first.

"No, Cas, listen, it's not gonna come to that. We just… We need to know that you're planning. What's gonna happen to her?"

"She will learn to defend herself, and how to use her power. After that…It is not my place to choose what her fate will be."

"As if it's anybody's place," Dean grumbled. He was _really_ damn good at grumbling.

"Dean, she's right. You're not gonna be following her around for the rest of her life. Let her at least learn what she's doing," Bobby reasoned. Dean didn't look happy, but decided to stomp into the kitchen instead of arguing anymore.

"I will return tomorrow to begin."

And he was gone. Just like that, the buzzing that I had accidentally tuned out with him. Sam went to go after Dean and Bobby left to try to mediate.

"Well that ought to be exciting, won't it?" The voice came without warning from behind. I spun around. Crowley.

"SHi-" My mouth was glued shut all of a sudden.

"No, there'll be none of that, thanks. I just thought I'd pop in to check on things."

He was just the way I remembered him, minus the black smoke and darkness, seeming oddly normal for the ruler of hell.

I folded my arms over my chest and glared.

"See? Just what I need. Some rebellious teen spirit." He wandered around the room and poked at things. "I have to say, that is the point of this little experiment. All your daddy's power wrapped up into a cute little bundle of emotions and hormones. With any luck, easy to manipulate and the _perfect_ way to toy with my favorite boys. Sounds like a great idea, eh?"

 _Come on, Lily,_ I thought. _You're the child of a freaking angel. You almost killed Castiel. And he knows who the hell your dad is. Speak._

I pushed against the pressure keeping me from talking, and I felt a small pop as my voice came back in.

"Who is he?" I asked, the carefully controlled anger in my tone surprising me.

"Dear old dad? Hm, not really for me to say, sweetheart. Why don't you ask your little teen angel? I'm sure he'll be able to tell you," Crowley said, seemingly surprised that I had broken the spell, but not bothering to force another one on me.

"Cas? He doesn't know," I replied, presuming what he had said was true. He didn't have enough to share.

"You know, just because he's on the good side doesn't mean he's not capable of lying, darling."

"Just like you're capable of telling the truth? Or is that the _only_ thing you do?"

"Sometimes seeing the truth is all you need," he replied, sounding like something people embroider on a pillow. Funny, how the demon was the one talking about truth.

"And sometimes, all it does is give you a headache. Like some other things I could mention," I replied.

"Well, like I said, just checking up. I just have one more test and then I'll let you go for a bit," he said, pulling on a pair of black gloves that he had taken out of his pockets.

"Yeah? And what the hell kind of test is that?" I asked, as he got a closer. I tried to back up to where Sam had left a knife on the table earlier, but Crowley showed up around behind me too, teleporting instantly.

"Don't worry. It only hurts for a while," he said, sounding freaking _chipper_.

Suddenly, my muscles were straining to move, and I was locked into a rigid position, unable to yell, or even speak again.

I panicked as he took his time getting closer, starting to speak in some kind of ancient cult sounding chant, words that my mind automatically translated into some kind of spell of possession.

No. Nope. Not happening. Not now, now that I was finally me. You can't take that away. I won't let you.

I struggled harder.

The chant had almost finished, and shadows grew at the corners of the room, lights beginning to flash, thunder rumbling outside.

There were only a few words left, and as the last one was about to be spoken, I hit the point of no return and lost all control.

 _Sooooo a bit more action in this chapter. And it's a little bit longer. Nice. I should pat myself on the back. But, just warning you all that I have no idea whats happening in the current season, or anything past season eight for that matter, so lets just assume that this is a completely separate story line. Also, Crowley is so fun to write. Anywayyyy, Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you all have a lovely day! Ta!_


	12. Ashes and Fire

The flickering lights all exploded in their sockets, electricity and white light surrounding her in a cloud, burning away the demon before her, not dead, she knew, just gone for now.

Sam ran in followed closely by Dean, as the energy formed a pair of wings that hovered behind her, her feet lifting a few feet off the ground, the ceiling browning with scorch marks. Random other things in the room rose with her, an old vase, a lamp, some books. They had to cover their eyes because of how brightly she glowed, the intense white burning through their eyelids, even searing holes in her clothes. Then it all stopped, the objects crashing to the floor and shattering, Lily dropping down among them, falling softly onto the rug.

Dean ran forward, not worrying about the potential risk and was kneeling at her side in moments.

"Lilly. LILLY. _Damn it_ ," he picked her up, feeling the intense heat under her skin, and gently put her down on the couch. His next breath was to call Cas, but as he began the prayer, she sat straight up and gasped for a breath, her eyes flying open and staying wide as her breathing tried to catch up to her rapidly pounding heart.

"Jesus, Lil, calm down," Dean said, trying to get rid of his panic. Sam and Bobby had made it to them now too.

"Are you okay, Lily? What happened?" Sam asked.

"Give her some space, boys," Bobby prompted, as she still worked to catch her breath. She stopped and winced.

"It was Crowley," she replied at last. Dean's jaw set, and he looked ready to go after him, expression only getting worse as she told the rest of the story.

"He said it was a test, he wanted to know if my powers... If I could stop him, I think. I panicked. He... he wanted to see how far he could push before I broke," she said, quiet, but factual, almost as though she was just an observer in her own life. Dean found it strange. He suddenly felt like he had been talking to Castiel.

"It's okay Lily. We'll set up some extra wards to keep him out. And call Cas too. Why don't you head upstairs and try to calm down a little? Dean will make some hot chocolate, and we'll be up in a little bit," Sam suggested.

"Okay," she said, like she wasn't worried anymore because of them. They could tell she was just putting on a brave face.

When she was gone, they called Cas, who was very confused.

"What's wrong? I only left five minutes ago."

They filled in the details that Lily had given them.

"Are those marks hers?" Cas had asked, pointing to the blackened scorch marks on the ceiling.

"Yeah, think so. She had _wings_ , Cas," Sam replied, still trying to remember what he had seen for a moment as he had rushed in hearing her screams. Cas nodded.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, as Cas looked on thoughtfully.

"Her power is great enough to belong to an archangel. There is no other option. That greatly reduces the possibilities of her father's identity," he stated, knowingly, kneeling over and touching the marks burned into the carpet.

"So now, what, we've got how many?" Sam asked.

"Seven. Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Raguel, Remiel and Saraqael," Bobby said, interjecting for the first time. "Maybe. That's what some lore says. But, its also possible that there are some changes. You'll have to ask the expert."

Cas did not realize that he was the expert until a minute later when he noticed everyone was staring at him.

"That is nearly correct. But there are several others that have not made it into your scripture. I will have to look further into it," he replied.

"Do that, then. And, can you use some of that angel mojo to make this place a little safer? If Crowley was after me, I'd like to know you were watching my ass, and it's the least you can do to make her feel better," Dean requested.

"I will do what I can and return in the morning." Cas confirmed. Dean turned to thank him but he was already gone.

As promised, Dean showed up with hot chocolate a little bit later. It was a big mug, and felt nice and warm in my hands, feeling perfect as I took a sip.

"You doing okay?" Dean asked me, seeming concerned, and still grumpy about how he hadn't gotten his way earlier and had been proven wrong.

"Yeah. I just really hate that guy," I grumbled. He laughed.

"Tell me about it. The worst part is he's actually useful when he's not being such a bitch. It's like having to work with Hitler. But don't worry, he'll stay far away from you if he knows what's good for him," Dean said, threatening the air.

 _A perfect way to toy with my favorite boys._

That was what Crowley had said. And she realized now that it was absolutely true. No matter what she did, they were invested. No chance of getting out now.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he doesn't. But that's okay. I handled it well enough, and I'm not even trained yet. By the time I am, I'll be safe," I replied.

Dean's expression was still a little dark. He sighed.

"That's the other thing. If Cas pushes you too hard, if there's something you don't want to learn, if there's something you can't make yourself do, then stop. Promise me that much at least. His heart's in the right place, but Cas... Sometimes he doesn't know what it's like to be human," Dean explained, a little sadly.

"I'll remember that," I told him quietly. It made me wonder what exactly I would be training to do. Immolate people? I really hoped not. It was the first thought that I had had that my training would be anything but fun and games. His advice had grounded me a little.

I had finished the cup of coca and put the empty mug on the table beside me.

"Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a big day for you," he said, standing and getting ready to leave the room.

"Sleep tight," I replied.

"Don't let the werewolves bite" he winked, closing the door. I stayed up just long enough to brush my teeth and finish a chapter of my book, managing to easily fall asleep despite the excitement for what was to come tomorrow.

 _Hey guys! Just a little more as I sit in study hall with nothing to do! Thanks for all of your reviews! They make my day :) Meanwhile, I've got some big plans for what's coming. And I've been leading into it. There have been lots of clues so far if anyone's picked up on them. THanks again for reading and reviewing! xx Ta!_


	13. Lies, Lies, and More Lies

"You don't need that."

After breakfast, Cas had appeared, and we had gone out to the woods behind Bobby's house to start training.

"Don't need what?"

"That anti-possession charm. It's a redundancy. Normal demons cannot possess your body," Cas had told me, on the way there.

"Really?"

"Yes. There are some…exceptions, however," he replied. "Some major forces that have the power. Only a few. You shouldn't have to worry about any of them."

"Why not?"

"They have all been destroyed, to the best of my knowledge," he replied.

"By who?" I asked, curiously, expecting some biblical hero. Moses or Ezikel or something.

"Sam and Dean." He replied simply.

We moved on through the woods, looking for a clearing, apparently, and I thought about what Crowley had told me yesterday. Cas knew who my dad was.

Now, considering that Crowley was the one who told me, I probably shouldn't say anything to Cas. It was probably meant to cause trouble, or to start something. I wouldn't ask. I would trust Cas' judgement. It was his or Crowley's.

We came to the spot in the woods, and halted. It was mostly clear, save for some old targets that looked like they were practically rotten, the wood falling apart and giving way.

"Since your physical abilities are more pressing, we will begin with those. You already know that you are very powerful. You must learn how to channel all of that power without destroying yourself or anyone else around you who you do not intend to harm. We will begin with what you did last night, the beam of energy that you created unintentionally. Did it hurt you at all?"

"A little. It burned," I replied, remembering the feeling I had gotten, like I had just swallowed a too hot drink.

"Then don't push yourself so much. Close your eyes and picture what I describe: The energy is in the air around you. You are not able to see it, but there is movement occurring between every particle of everything. Try first with just the light. Feel the energy of motion around you and harness it, gently. Change it into the energy of light." I opened my eyes to see that I had made my own little pool of sunshine, gently pulsing through the clearing and cutting through the cloudy, gray afternoon. I looked at Cas, to see his approval, and the light flickered.

"Concentrate. You must focus on your task." He told me. My mind jumped back to the image of the glowing air, of the light energy around me, and the glow strengthened. I tried to imagine the light looking more like industrial lighting, more blue and stark, and the light in the clearing faded automatically.

"Good." Cas replied. "Try color."

I watched as the light changed, from red to blue to green to purple and orange and back around again.

"When you stop, try to do it quickly. Like a switch."

I did as he asked, the lights flipping off as though switched.

"On." He said. And they were back, even less effort used than before.

"Off." They were gone again.

"On." Now that I had learned how, the simple trick was easy.

"Good. Now focus the light into one beam. Let the rest of it go, except for what is in a straight line between you and your target," he said.

I focused the light into one beam, pointed at the target that was nearest to me.

"Now select another target."

I turned the light off and it appeared again pointing to another beam.

"Another."

We kept going until I could control it, the light focusing and bending at my will, even forming shapes, blades and arrows, even a devil's trap, made in the air. I learned fast, more quickly than any human student could.

"Now change the light into a more pure form of heat."

The beam that I had pointing at the target glowed brighter, turning into what I guess could be called a laser, pure energy, melting through the plastic cover and setting the wood behind it on fire instantaneously.

Cas zapped the target back to the way it was before.

"Now do what you learned to transform it into a blade."

I obliged, focusing the beam to have a razor sharp edge, slicing through the target. With a glance, Cas repaired it.

"Again."

I proceeded to immolate the targets to the best of my abilities.

"Now repair them."

I imagined the target coming back together as one, and it was immediately repaired.

"You are doing well. Continue to practice and focus."

I concentrated, making the cut sharper and the slice and repair quicker, improving with each blow.

"Well, don't focus too much. Could be dangerous," said a voice coming from behind me, where a man was walking out from behind a tree. I tried not to jump or accidentally fry anyone.

He spoke with an accent, British maybe, and was wearing faded jeans and a sport coat over a v-neck t-shirt. He had short cropped blonde hair, that matched the sandy wings folding behind him. Another angel.

"Balthazar." Cas nodded a greeting in his direction, though I noticed he stepped forward a little bit, almost in defense.

"Dear old Castiel. Is this the little one you're so puzzled about?"

Balthazar was looking at me, his head tilted to the side in inspection.

"Lily. My name's Lily," I informed him, curtly.

"Ah, how rude of me. Of course you'd object to being spoken about like you're not in the room. Happens after a day or two of hanging around those Winchester boys."

I opened my mouth to say something that I probably would have gotten into trouble for.

"She is the one I asked you about. Is there anything that you can confirm?" Cas interrupted, noticing my attempt to say something salty.

The blonde angel strolled around, in a circle, watching me, while I raised an eyebrow at Cas to ask if he was really being serious, or if I should mind my manners. There was a slight shrug in response. Helpful.

"Well," Balthazar concluded, moving to stand still on the other side of Cas. "I can tell you that she's not one of mine. Or Uriel's. And, I've tracked a bit of Raphael's bloodline, and she's not his either. Thank dad for that. Can you imagine a whole mess of little pricks running free? Either way, if I had to guess, I would say Archangel. But I don't really have to guess, do I?"

"Maybe. That is, if you want to be immolated," I replied.

"Sweetheart, I'd let you try, but it would take so long that I might die of old age before you manage to get strong enough."

I wondered if that would be true.

"But, Castiel, I think your other theory was correct. The one regarding her mother," Balthazar continued, completely ignoring my glare.

"I have since found evidence to disregard that possibility."

"If you say so."

"I do."

Balthazar turned back toward me.

"We'll have to chat another time dear. Ciao!"

With that, he was gone.

"I apologize for that," Cas told me.

"No, it's not your fault. I didn't mind so much. Whatever helps me find the truth faster, right?" I searched for his eyes, which were staring off into the distance. He looked down at me, and meeting my gaze perfectly, he lied.

"Right."

 _I'M SORRY. But here's the thing, I love Balthazar, and he fit here, so even if they aren't supposed to know him yet, TOO DAMN BAD. Okay, thanks. Sorry. Thanks for reading and reviewing, love you all. xx Ta!_


	14. Absent Fathers

The rest of the morning was spent developing an immunity to heat, which Cas explained would be useful and practical if I were to be using the energy techniques that I seemed to naturally lean towards.

He conjured up a bonfire in the center of the clearing, blazing huge and wild, somehow controlled, with flames still almost completely solid, despite a lack of any kind of fuel.

Standing near it, I could feel the heat radiating outward. Common sense told me that I would get burned if I touched it, but some part of me still wanted to reach out, to feel what it was like to hold the fire. And according to Cas, that was exactly what I was supposed do.

"Start with your hand. Reach in."

"Won't I get burned?"

"No. You have more energy than even these flames. When you touch them, you're losing some of yours to them. If flames could be burned, then you would be burning them. Which is why you must be careful not to let the inferno grow any larger."

I stepped forward, to a point when I could reach a hand out.

Tentatively, I reached in, slowly, starting at the tip of my finger, and sliding the rest of my hand in quickly.

It felt almost as though there was wind blowing specifically around my hand, the fire not hot or cold, just... Different. It tickled a little bit.

"Now step all the way in."

I took a breath and stepped forward, into what felt like I was inside a cloud, or a very steamy shower. The air was thick and a little difficult to breathe. The strangest part though, was the sight of the orange flames surrounding me, clouding up my sight. That, or the sound of the crackling right up against me, the snaps and pops as it burned. I wondered what to do next. I knew that I wouldn't be able to hear Cas' next instructions, but he seemed to know that too, because a moment later, his voice was in my head.

"Now, either disperse the flame, or draw in the energy."

I concentrated on sending the flames away, starting farthest away from me, imagining the oxygen around them leaving. As the circle was smaller, I started to draw in the flames instead of killing them, taking their energy instead of removing their air. In only a few moments, the only fire left in the clearing was being held gently in my hand, just my own little flame. I watched it for a minute, then let it shrink until it was small enough for me to blow out. Then I made it a little bigger, and tried changing the color.

"That is enough for today. We will begin again tomorrow."

Thank god. I was exhausted. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and was starving. The sandwich I had packed for lunch had hardly been enough then, and two hours later I was feeling like I could eat a horse.

We walked back to the house in near silence, a sort of mutual agreement that we wouldn't talk about anything dangerous.

"Are you tired?"

"Are you kidding? I'm exhausted. Will I always get so drained when I use my powers?"

"You may to some extent. As you grow more used to them, you'll develop stamina."

"What do we still have left to work on?"

"Quite a bit. Tomorrow we will work to develop mental senses, because you will most likely be sore from today's exercises."

"I'm already sore," I complained. I could already feel my muscles straining, especially in the arms I had been using to direct energy.

"The pain is a part of you. You will grow stronger and won't be sore for long."

"How long is 'not long'?"

"A few days at worst."

We had come back to the house, where Sam was waiting on the porch. Cas was gone.

"Wait to say good bye." I mumbled.

"Hey, Lily. How'd things go today?" Sam asked, when I got close.

"Pretty good."

The rest of the day involved some cleaning. I found an old guitar in Bobby's basement (that was covered in what looked like blood) and found some new strings for it, taking my time in spiffing it up before dinner. It was almost falling apart, but I didn't mind much. I was just finished tuning it when I got called down.

They had rarely eaten together before she had come, but from her first night there, Bobby had insisted that they do it, instead of just wandering around and eating whenever they felt like it.

Which was fine with Dean, because it meant that he was more likely to get a home cooked meal than having to microwave one himself. Lil even set the table. *It's like a real family, he thought sarcastically. Even if Bobby's cooking wasn't exactly Rachel Ray.

Tonight it was steak, grilled, and they all dug in with no qualms. Sam and Bobby had spent the whole day researching archangels, and he had been touching up the paint on the Impala. They weren't desperate enough to ask for his help yet. And Lil had had her first day's lesson.

"How was angel boot camp?" He asked, his mouth still full. Old habits die hard.

"Not bad. There was a lot of stuff to learn. We barely finished in time."

"What kinda stuff?" Sam asked, curiously.

She had launched into the details of the day, and had barely spared a moment. At least now she wouldn't be accidentally burning any holes in the ceiling.

"Oh, and do you guys know anything about Balthazar?" She had asked, a little while after she finished.

"Balthazar? Why?" Dean had asked. She shrugged in reply.

"He stopped in and talked to Cas. He said he'd narrowed down the list of who my parents could be."

"That bastard have anything else to say?" Dean asked.

"Just a general statement of his contempt for you." She replied.

"Well, nothing new then," he replied, putting his dish in the sink for someone else to clean.

Daylight was fading, and there was no point in going back out to finish working until tomorrow.

He was thinking about what Lil had said about Balthazar, how he thought it was more likely her mother had been narrowed down. How the hell was it easier to narrow down one woman from seven billion, rather than one archangel from seven?

One thing that she had said today had been good news though. She wasn't possessable, if Cas was right. That meant one less way she was likely to be hurt because of them. One less way she would end up dead.

He grabbed a beer and sat down to watch the game. Sam and Lil were playing chess in the background somewhere, and it seemed like she was winning, unlike the Seahawks, unfortunately.

She came over to an armchair a little while later and tried to watch for a little. She was so exhausted that in only a couple of minutes, she had passed out cold, still sitting almost straight up in a position that looked pretty damn uncomfortable.

Sam came over and sat down next to him, not looking very tired at all, still paging through a book about angels.

"Anything?"

Sam glanced up to make sure Lily was asleep. That was pretty much the only time they could talk without worrying about her hearing them. Unless they drove out to, like, New Mexico.

"Well, we've ruled out a couple, right? Going on what Cas and Balthazar said, it's not Uriel, or Raphael. And even though Balthazar isn't an archangel, she's not related to him anyway," Sam began, getting a little bit excited as he went over what they had learned.

"Who else?" Dean asked.

"Well... There's always Gabriel."

"The Trickster?"

"Well, yeah. He is an archangel, after all. And we know he's been on earth for awhile. And he hasn't exactly kept to himself. I mean, look at Casa Erotica," Sam reasoned.

"Rather not," Dean shook his head, and watched Lil, sleeping, changing positions a little so that she was curled up more, a small smile on her lips. "But I still don't think so. Is there anybody else?"

"No one else *probable. Cas says almost all of the other angels don't like it down here, and that they'd get humiliated for having any kids. And the 'few other' archangels he gave us? There are forty in all. Definitely helps narrow it down," he said, sarcastically.

"Do you think..." Dean started, as he trailed off and shook his head a little.

"What?" Sam asked, curious.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Dean, you can tell me."

"You don't think it could be Lucifer, do you? I mean, it's a little far out, but Cas says that he's gotta be powerful."

Sam paused, and after a minute, shook his head.

"I don't know," Sam said. "But I feel like I would know somehow if she was. I just... I feel like she's _not_."

Dean nodded and shook his head at once.

"Okay, just narrowing it down," he replied, defending himself, justifying the possibility of making Sam upset.

The television droned on and they watched for a little while. Long enough for the fireflies to start flickering outside the window, and for Bobby's footsteps to stop moving upstairs.

Eventually Dean reached over to the remote, and shut off the television.

Lily still hadn't moved.

"You want me to take her?" Sam asked, as he got up and stretched.

"Nah. I got it," Dean replied quietly, as he lifted Lily up carefully and carried her upstairs, while Sam checked the locks and shut off the lights. He put her in her bed, and under the covers, tucking her in just like he used to do to Sammy when their dad was away on a hunt. She still had that blissfully peaceful expression on her face.

He gave her one last, almost-not-sad smile, as he closed the door behind him and went to bed, to face the nightmares of hell all over again.

Except that night, they never came.

 _Hey-o. My teachers seem to be very fond of not giving us work on Fridays. Thank Chuck. Anyways, here's another chapter. Hope you like it! Thanks for reading and reviewing and for all of the awesome reviews! xx Ta!_


	15. Angel Boot Camp

The next morning's lesson was about sensing things. Whether something was a demon, or an angel, or a pagan god, or a wendigo, or just some homeless guy on drugs. It was pretty easy.

And I got to see a demon up close for the first time (Crowley not included). Cas had conjured one up for practice, a guy who looked like he could be a principal or superintendent, wearing glasses, slightly bald, and tied to a chair. He had black eyes, and if I looked closely, I could see his demonic form, a grotesque face, deformed and scarred.

I didn't try to look very closely.

He stayed quiet.

"You can tell how powerful a demon is based on their Aura. This one is very easy to detect, because it is not powerful enough to block you. The most powerful demons can pass as humans because of their talent for hiding."

"Will they all have black eyes?" I'd asked, curious.

"No. There are also red, yellow, and purple, among other variations. Many of the more powerful demons have uniquely colored eyes, and different... Monstrous features."

"And the dark feeling. That's him too?" I'd questioned, a deep feeling of dread and rage and loads of other nasty stuff emanating from the beast.

"Yes. If you focus more intently, you may be able to find the epicenter."

We also worked on telepathic connections, as he showed me simple memories in his head, and I attempted to read them. I could speak without opening my mouth, putting words right into his thoughts, which was admittedly pretty cool. He taught me how to hear the communications of other angels, although, he advised me to stay away from them, in case any of them noticed me.

After lunch, we reviewed a little bit, and I learned how to find memories in someone else's head, and how to manipulate their emotions.

With everything I learned, Cas seemed surprised that I was capable of doing it. It seemed like he hadn't bargained on me being this powerful, or quick to learn.

It went on like that for the rest of the week, learning healing and disguise on Wednesday, exorcising and taking out demons on Thursday, and on Friday, something new, manipulating matter and transporting it. I could take something small and make it big, take something big and make it small, grow plants from a seed in an instant, turn one thing into another, or make something out of nothing at all. That last part was the most exhausting. Probably the reason why I got Saturday and Sunday off. Well, sort of.

Saturday was about fighting, both angel style, incorporating my powers, and normal, hand to hand combat, or with a knife or gun. In the morning, Cas taught me, and in the afternoon, Sam brought my lunch (which I had forgotten) and ended up staying until around nightfall, as we practiced for hours on end.

It went on like that for another three weeks, taking us into September, spending every weekday training, and taking only Sunday to rest. I was exhausted both mentally and physically, more so than I ever had been before in my life, and was incredibly sore for ages, as we reviewed and practiced sparring. I got so good at shooting a gun and crossbow that I could hit a bulls eye from half a mile away.

I could throw knives too. I had borrowed a few from Bobby's secret stash, and had taught myself how to do that. I was a little bit stronger than a normal person, and a heck of a lot faster. I had easily beaten Sam at a footrace, and had even bested him sparring a few times. I accidentally broke his foot, and had managed to repair it all by myself. Cas was pretty pleased. Even Dean seemed to be less grumpy. I had asked him for help on some of my lessons too.

"Can you help me practice?"

"As long as it doesn't involve turning me into a frog. Go for it." He'd replied, a little sarcastically, glancing up from the magazine about cars that he was reading while sitting on the back porch.

"Well, I _could_ do that, but I had something a little bit easier in mind," I replied.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"Just wait." I focused on a memory I had, of going to the beach with my family, of the ocean, and the sand, and the Twizzlers that I always used to eat as a kid.

Dean cocked his head to the side as he received the memory, curious.

"It this you?" He asked, kind of amazed, and smiling a little bit, the happiness of the thoughts rubbing off on him.

"Yeah. We always went to the same beach when I was little. And there was always licorice and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Want me to make lunch?"

He smiled approvingly.

"Sounds good."

I pushed myself constantly. Cas was always telling me how Sam and Dean were such good hunters, and how they saved people.

I figured that I would like to do that.

It was sort of like a fantasy, a distant goal of mine. Like a kid who was born to play baseball and wanted to go pro. And now, I was almost good enough for the major league.

 _So just another chapter here. Lots of interesting angel powers and stuff. You know, just the norm. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Hope y'all have a nice day. (Lots of fun chapters to come.) Ta!_


	16. Back Burner

Dean came inside to hear something unusual. Someone was listening to music, and pretty loudly, too. The first few bars of Stairway to Heaven guided him through the house, the notes almost calling him somehow. He wandered upstairs to find Lilyanna, sitting on her bed, and staring out the window while absently plucking the strings of a beaten up guitar, her hands moving without looking, or even registering that she was playing.

She seemed so different from when she had first come, a little bit more muscular, certainly stronger, her skin a little bit tanner from being out in the sun so often.

Her eyes were the same though, and they still reminded him of something, although he still couldn't figure out what.

Lilyanna had become a regular fixture in their lives; setting the table, doing the dishes and sitting in her armchair, even playing poker with them on occasion, as they took off from long hunting trips to try and do research on her parents and make sure her training went smoothly.

And maybe it was because she was hanging out with Cas so much, but she somehow now seemed ethereal, otherworldly even. That was, until you got her playing cards, or laughing at a stupid joke. Then she was just any other teenager.

There were times too, when she felt like one of them, like another part of the family, almost like she had been there all along, they just hadn't realized it. Then there were the awkward moments when they would forget their manners or her age, or make some kind of guy joke, and had to make up for the distance. Dean still caught her wincing every time he talked with his mouth full.

She seemed to recognize that he was there leaning on the door for the first time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"

"No, it's fine. You sound really good, actually. Where'd you learn that?" He asked, gesturing to the beaten down guitar in her hands.

"Want the truth, or the romantic version?"

Dean cracked a little smile.

"Let's start with the truth," he replied.

"Public school. In fourth grade, we all took guitar lessons," she replied, smiling a little wistfully.

"And the romantic?"

"I just could pick it up and play it one day, courtesy of my absent-though-angelic father."

They both laughed a little.

"How was angel boot camp today?" He asked.

"The usual. I was sparring with Cas. He seems to think I'm doing pretty well," she hinted. She'd been trying to get him to come spar with her for a few weeks, ever since she really started feeling confident in her powers. He hadn't gotten around to it, as he was now working on the missing parents case too. Because, yes, they were now that desperate.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'll have to get out there sometime," he replied.

"But, listen, I wanted to ask you about something," Dean started.

"Shoot," she replied leaning back a little on her pillow.

"Sam and I... We think there's a job in Missouri. And as much as we're working here, it looks like things are getting pretty rough out there. D'you think you'll be alright with Cas and Bobby if we go out there for a couple of days?"

"What kind of job?" She asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"We think it might be a poltergeist. It won't be a big deal," he replied.

"And I can't come and help?" She questioned. He was fairly certain that she knew the answer but was testing her boundaries.

"Not until Cas says you're ready for the field," he replied, sternly. "And maybe not even then. We'll see." She gave a little head nod that said something along the lines of 'yeah, okay, whatever'.

"And I promise, we _will_ find your parents. We're just gonna have to put that on the back burner for now. There are people whose lives are in danger. Okay?"

She nodded again.

"Okay."

"One more thing. Cas doesn't know anything else, does he?" He asked hesitantly, not sure that he should reveal to her that he didn't trust their friend, and worried that it might cause a rift, forcing her to choose between him or Cas.

What he didn't know was that the rift would more likely be caused by her, if she spoke up with what Crowley had told her and it turned out to be true.

She looked him right in the eye, and lied, for both of their sakes'.

"No. He doesn't."

 _Just a quick little chapter here. I like switching perspectives. I find it refreshing. So yeah. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'll try to post again soon! Ta!_


	17. Sixteen Candles

And just like that, everything changed.

Suddenly, the house was too quiet, too still without the boys.

There was no Sam leafing through books and sitting in an armchair, no Dean rummaging through the fridge for food or listening to music way too loudly. Dinner was taken quietly, whenever we felt like it, usually while watching something on the history channel. Cas had decided that he was no longer needed for training, unless I had questions or something, so I spent the few days practicing on my own until Sam and Dean got back, although my angel mentor still popped in for more than one weekly lesson. Bobby decided to register me under a false ID for home schooling, even if he wouldn't be teaching me anything. I could still at least officially graduate eventually, so if I wanted to go to college, I could.

Sam and Dean came back later that week to check in and stayed for a few days before leaving for another job. For the next two, they came home, but after that they just kept skipping along from one job to the next and didn't bother to come back. They still called whenever they could though.

On their third job out, they phoned at two in the morning to ask how to kill a gollum. I had the answer after ten minutes of research, and gave it to them. Bobby still wouldn't let me answer the fake FBI management lines though. Bummer.

They were gone for almost a month before they finally came back, looking tired, Sam sporting a gash on his elbow, which I healed for him.

I was upstairs when I heard them for the first time.

"We're home!" Dean called, sounding surprisingly happy.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the porch as they told me about what they had done, so that I could take notes. Just like their dad's journal, if they had some idea of what they had done before, it could be useful for them to use in the future.

That night we stayed up late watching an old Steven King movie. We even celebrated their return with some pie.

I considered it my birthday celebration, because although my sweet sixteen was tomorrow, I hardly expected them to remember it.

Even if they did, I wouldn't expect much from them because they had completely taken me in from the goodness of their hearts, and that was already doing too much.

We all said good night and went our separate ways. The next morning, Cas had planned to meet me to evaluate my skills.

Great birthday present.

It was storming. Pouring rain, thunder, lightning, unusual for so late in the season.

And, of course, no reason to cancel angel boot camp. I asked Cas if we could take a rain date, but he simply replied that if I didn't like getting wet, I wouldn't have to, that I could just use my powers to stay dry.

But, I felt like that was kinda defying nature, so I just tried not to mind getting wet. I had kept quiet all this time about my parents, and had no intention of stopping that today. Although, at this point, I wondered if I even wanted to know. Fitting in so well here, I questioned if I wanted to be torn away from it all again by the discovery.

Another thing was that Cas had been accidentally staring at me lately. Just sort of not paying attention and drifting off sometimes. I felt like he was thinking about my parents, but I never intruded, because it also might not have been.

At the end of the lesson today, he finished his long stare by talking.

"Today is your birthday," he said, not really asking or stating, just sort of thinking out loud. He looked me in the eye.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I replied curiously. It wasn't the kind of question he normally asked.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Reasons." He replied. He picked up that line from me.

"Like what reasons?" I asked.

"You have been alive for longer than sixteen years, even though you have only seen sixteen birthdays," he replied.

"And what does that mean?" I wondered, curious.

"There may have been a time when you were... Dormant, perhaps. Maybe... In storage. Or, you were forwarded through time."

"Why would I have been forwarded through time?" I asked, already half way to an answer.

"To protect you from being followed. Or perhaps to keep you away from a certain time period when you could be in danger."

"What kinds of danger?" I pressed

"The apocalypse, for example. If your powers had awakened even a year earlier, you would have been in the thick of the fighting. Your father clearly planned for that at the very least."

"And what about my mother? Where would she have been during that time?" I asked, still holding on to a little hope that my real mom could be alive somewhere.

Cas' expression clouded.

"I do not know." He replied. I let the subject drop.

I knew that I shouldn't have.

As per usual, Cas walked me back until we were close enough to see the house, and then left. Sam wasn't out on the porch today, although the rain had stopped. The salvage lot still smelled like petrichor, the smell of earth after rain, and my thoughts were everywhere by the time my feet followed their usual trail back to the house, around the barn, through the back door.

Where, in the kitchen, a small party was waiting for me.

"Surprise," Dean said, smirking a little bit. I was taken aback for a moment, not managing much more than to smile and laugh. The drab and dusty kitchen had been decorated feebly with some multi colored streamers.

Sam was sitting, looking slightly disgruntled wearing a too small party hat that said,"Party Boy," on the top, something that Dean must have just done before I walked in.

Bobby walked in carrying a cake, alight with sixteen candles. Cas was even there, standing by the table and curiously watching the festivities.

I was wrapped up in the moment and spent the evening laughing and talking, as the boys told war stories and we ate the cake for dinner.

Even Cas thought it was tasty.

The boys had just fallen silent for the first time, when Sam had announced that it was time for presents.

"You guys did not have to get me anything!" I exclaimed, totally justified at my response. They had literally taken me in when I had nothing and given me all I had now.

They all ignored my protests, except for Cas.

"It is customary to give a gift on someone's birthday." He explained, extending a hand, holding a bright silver knife out to me, by the hilt. I took it gingerly. It felt weighted perfectly in my hand.

On one side, in Enochian, it read "Blade of God". On the other it read "Servant of Heaven".

"It's an angel blade," Cas explained. "The only weapon capable of killing an angel, and one of the few that can kill a demon."

"Thank you," I said, examining it further, really meaning the thanks.

This was more than just any knife. Cas had literally given me the ability to kill him. He trusted me.

Sam and Dean raised an eyebrow. That kind of trust never came easy.

"Me next," Sam said, handing over two small rectangular packages, wrapped in paper and held together with ribbon. They looked small in his hands, but were really quite large.

The package on the bottom contained a thick and empty leather journal, just like John's, complete with warding symbols on the front to keep intruders out. On the top, was a small book about angels. It was a beautiful volume, a cover made of canvas and painted by hand, holding a mass of pages, all of a thin vellum, some holding images or even runic marks.

"Thanks, Sam. It's perfect," I said, smiling a little shyly. He had gotten me exactly what I had wanted, even though I had never said. I figured that he must have known me really well to have chosen such a great gift.

"Bobby. Would you like to do the honors?" Dean asked, hesitating slightly.

"Sure."

Bobby placed a small box on the table. When I picked it up, it rattled a little. It didn't escape me that Dean had left the room, ducking out behind me.

I opened the small black box that Bobby had given me. It could have been some kind of jewelry, but it wasn't. Instead of a necklace or ring, there was just one key, on a key chain. A car key.

"No way," I said, not even quite hearing myself. "No freaking way." It was every kid's dream to get a car for their sweet sixteen.

"Yes way. It's for that Mustang out back. She just needs a new paint job, then she'll be ready for the road. I saw you eyeing her up," Bobby replied, smiling at my reaction.

It was totally true. I looked at that car every day on my way back from training, even going as far as to sit in the front seat and read for a little while, once. It hadn't been in its usual spot lately, but I hadn't been concerned, figuring that Bobby had just moved it, as he often did with everything in the lot. He had fixed it up for me.

I stood up and hugged him. Out of all the boys, Bobby was the most like a parent, like a dad to me. He seemed to understand that I needed someone to play that role.

I followed with hugs to Sam and Cas, the latter just a little bit stiff.

"Don't forget about me," Dean said, coming back into the kitchen.

He was carrying a brand new guitar, an acoustic electric, made of a dark wood and accented in black. It looked very expensive, and like just about the most beautiful instrument I had ever seen.

"Is that really for me?" I remember asking, incredulously.

He nodded, grinning.

"Happy Birthday, kid."

 _Just the last happy chapter before things start to go downhill. Thought you ought to know. Thanks again for reading and reviewing! Ta! xx_


	18. I Hear Voices all the Time

The nightmares started the next time the boys left.

Every night, without fail, they returned.

I often thought about what a good thing it was that I didn't need much sleep.

It was the same every night. A voice taunting me, sometimes Crowley, sometimes someone else, most often a chorus of the voices of the damned.

It was always dark, always so, _so_ dark... The things that they whispered...

They taunted me, teasing about angels, repeating the names that could be my father. Or just any angel, for that matter. Over and over again, searing into my mind, an unstoppable mantra behind my eyes whenever I rested.

Raziel, Uriel, Ezekiel, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, Joshua, Daniel... So many names. Too many names.

They whispered things that I didn't want to hear, things about Lucifer, the fallen angel, and the power that would come with being his child. Power that I prayed wasn't mine.

They, at first, were hard to hear. I only noticed them when I was most deeply asleep, but as a few weeks went by, they became more insistent, beginning from the moment my head hit the pillow. The only respite was when Sam and Dean were around. The day or so before they got home, the day before the voices left for awhile, the chanting would change, become much worse, almost painful in my skull.

Whispering that if I told Sam and Dean, if I just said one word, that they would confront Cas, and that he would tell me. _Just one word,_ they whispered.

 _Tell them, tell them, tell them, tell them..._

But they were home now, for maybe the third time since my birthday, and the nightmares were gone.

I had been dropping (probably not very) subtle hints whenever I talked to them about how much I wanted to go on the road with them, or how Cas had approved me for hunting, or how I was getting better all the time.

I knew that I could help them on the job, and that I was getting bored here. Even Bobby would go on hunts sometimes, leaving me with Cas as a babysitter, or trusting me to hold down the fort for a few days and not light the house on fire.

Meanwhile, I had escaped the nights by learning how to drive, taking my new (old) Mustang out into the dirt road for practice. In two weeks, I was a pro, and Bobby gave me my own license, forged because I had no real birth certificate.

It was the perfect time to prove that I had what it took to be a hunter, to finally get away from the voices in my dreams.

So then, when Sam and Dean came home, on their third afternoon back, I decided to finally make my move.

Dean was talking about the vamp nest that they had just taken out.

"Sounds like a successful trip," I said, trying to prepare an argument in my head.

"It was," he agreed. Sam walked in and sat down in a nearby armchair.

"I'd like to come along sometime and help out," I added, as casually as I could.

Dean immediately turned towards me to start arguing, but I cut him off.

"Dean, come on. Before you say no, at least spar with me. If I can kick your ass, I'm sure I'd be fine out in the field. You don't have to say yes, just give me a chance to show you what I can do," I argued, speaking quickly so that he couldn't interrupt.

He seemed to mull it over. He didn't want me fighting, that much was for sure, but he liked that I hadn't forced him to take me along if I won.

"Yeah. Okay. No harm in a little practice." He said standing and stretching, making Sam raise his eyebrows from his seat.

"Sammy, you wanna come watch?"

Sam stood quickly and put down his laptop.

"Sure."

My plan was simple. I would win by a landslide, amazing Dean with my skill, then he would take me with them on their next hunt, and the nightmares would stop, and I wouldn't have to tell anyone about them. Cas wouldn't be busted for knowing my parents, and eventually, we could hunt down Crowley and force him to tell us.

Easy.

Step one went exactly as planned.

It was the last nice day at the end of October, the sun still shining, and no breeze on the air, just barely warm enough for shorts, although both Sam and Dean wore jeans already.

We went to the usual clearing that I practiced in.

The sun was just beginning its daily descent, and the light shone into he clearing, as Dean took off his jacket and hung it on a low tree limb, taking the pistol out of his belt, and handing it to Sam to hold.

Sparring with Dean was different than anyone else that I had fought before.

For a minute, we circled each other, sizing up, looking for weak spots. Dean was right handed, he would hit with that one first, I knew. I wanted to wait for him to take the first punch.

"You sure about this?" He asked. He didn't want to have to hit me. Weakness number two. Sam had been the same way, until he had realized that I could hold my own.

"Yeah, it'll be fun," I responded, trying not to smile too much.

Dean finally threw the first punch, and the game began.

He was solid muscle, and every hit that I landed felt hopelessly like I was hitting nothing but a punching bag.

Moving to strike faster than Sam could, he was quick as well as strong. He could see what I was about to do, and block it better than Cas could. Any hits that he took came without complaint, and it was awhile before he actually seemed to be concerned that he wouldn't win. The duel began to accelerate.

What scared me most, then, were his eyes. I figured that it must be a default expression when he was fighting, especially when things got particularly rough, but his eyes turned dark and fierce, his expression angry as he fought. It showed what he was fighting for, fighting because of, the life of anguish and pain, and sorrow. Whether it was cold, hard determination, or pure badassery, I didn't know. It was what every monster that Dean killed must have seen the moment before its death, and it was terrifying.

He swung a blow to my left, and I easily stepped past it, moving to the outside of his arm, and quickly jabbing him hard in the ribs, where he fell back.

If he got hurt, I could easily heal him when I finished proving my point.

He stood facing me, keeping his guard up, and bouncing on his toes a little, like a boxer.

"You're getting pretty good, kid," he said, sweating and breathing deeply, not quite bleeding, but sporting a fat lip. "But there's one thing you didn't count on."

"What's that?" I asked, not at all sarcastically, concerned about the plot twist that must be coming.

"Winchesters come in pairs," he said, smiling a little bit.

I felt Sam behind me the minute before he struck, stepping forward at the last minute to evade, then backtracking to grab his arm, while Dean charged towards me.

Time didn't slow down, but I sped up, flipping Sam over my shoulder, and throwing him into the approaching Dean, who was stopped in his tracks and completely bowled over by his younger (but taller) brother.

They landed in a pile.

"Is there another pair of Winchester brothers, or have I just beaten the only two?" I asked, walking over to help them up, healing them easily, as I offered a hand to each of them to use to stand.

"That was pretty impressive, Lil," Dean said, dusting himself off.

"Thanks," I replied. "Told you I can hold my own."

"You certainly did." Dean seemed almost...Proud?

"I've been working really hard." I said. "I wanna feel safe when you're not here. When I have to be alone." I chose my words just a little bit to guilt trip him, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.

He knew that I wanted to know if I could go hunting with them. He totally could tell that I was waiting for the words to come. _Yes. Come with us. Let's hunt._

"Then keep working hard. Soon, you'll be good enough to come with."

 _Damn._

Saying that I was crushed didn't cover the half of it.

I took a deep breath and bit back the not-so-nice reply that was coming.

It was, after all, Dean's call. I had to follow his orders. He was in charge, and It was my job to listen to him. I couldn't force him to bring me. Arguing wouldn't help me right now.

I nodded that I understood what he meant, and we stared back to the house.

Plan A failed. No plan B.

 _HEY GUYS HOWS IT GOING? I'm really sick rn and I feel like crap, and I should probably be doing school work, but here's this bit. Hopefully that makes up for something. Thanks for reading and for all of the positive reviews! Ta! xx_


	19. Season Finale

Sam and Dean were leaving in the morning. When they thought that I was asleep, they had the conversation that I had been waiting for.

Dean stared it.

"What are you looking like that for? You look like I ran over your puppy."

"Dean, you know that Lily wants to come with us," Sam said, quietly.

"No. Lily wants to _hunt_ with us. There's a difference."

"What, that she wants in on the action?"

"She wants to kill, that's what. She wants to help us kill monsters. Not just come along for the fun of it, not for the ride. She wants to prove herself."

"Can you blame her? She's just as curious as we are about what she can do. She'll be safe. This case is just a normal haunting, there would be no harm in bringing her. The thing's already dead. I mean, Dad started taking us on cases before we were half her age. You were flying solo by sixteen."

"We are _not_ Dad, Sammy. We can't bring her into this."

"Dean, she was _born_ into this. You heard Cas. She's meant to be a hero any way. Sooner or later, she will be one," Sam said.

"Is that what we are? _Heroes_? We don't live the life of heroes. We stop the apocalypse, and do we even get a friggin thank you? No. Heroes live the life. Us? We see all kinds of awful shit and end up either drunk or dead. She shouldn't want to be like us. We're _broken_ , Sammy. I don't want her to be."

There was a bit of a pause.

"Have you been dreaming about... Hell, lately? Or anything bad?"

Sam asked, seeming to suddenly make a connection.

"Lately? No, thank god," Dean replied, thrown off guard and a little curious.

"Me neither. See, I should be having all kinds of... _Issues_ with what happened in the pit, but I haven't. Not since Lily showed up. And you haven't been drinking as much. I've noticed," Sam replied.

"And you're saying that's _her_?" Dean asked, using the voice that he usually reserved for surprising acceptance.

"Yeah. Dean, with her, it's like we're... Less broken."

"Is she doing that on purpose?" Dean asked.

"I don't think so. I talked to Cas, and she shouldn't be able to do those kinds of things. They just seem to happen subconsciously."

There was an even longer silence. I was starting to get tired, as I noticed my eyelids drooping.

"I just want her to be safe. Just for a little longer. At least from Crowley," Dean replied.

"We can't keep her safe forever," Sam reminded gently.

"But remember the demon that we met two weeks ago? Crowley wants her, Sam. But her can't get her here. We've warded this place up more than Fort Knox. She won't have that if we go on the road. He'll find her, and then it'll only be a matter of time. We can't keep him away out there. She'll have to stay here. A least a little longer, until he cools down. I'm gonna head up now. You should too. We're leaving bright and early."

Dean's footsteps echoed around the house, as he checked the locks on the doors, and climbed up the stairs, crashing into bed.

Sam sighed heavily, then got up and checked the locks again, heading to bed as well.

They would say goodbye in the morning, and then be gone again. With them, the chance to sleep without nightmares. I had a lot I wanted to do, but all I could manage was to fall asleep, listening to the soft sounds of the house settling, as I faded.

 _"Tell them."_

A scream. The image of a woman.

 _"Tell them, Lily."_

Another scream, this one long into the darkness that is everywhere.

A million hands reaching for me, reaching out to touch me.

 _"Tell them. I know that you want to know who she is."_

Another flash of the woman, smiling.

I don't recognize her, but I know she's my mother.

 _"Tell them. Make Castiel tell you."_

The voice is Crowley's.

 _"Tell them. Tell them. Tell them."_ The chant starts with him, but with each repeat, another voice joins.

 _"Tell them. Tell them. Tell them."_

The voices call out names, so many names. Too many names. Angel names.

 _"Tell them. Tell them. Tell them. Tell them."_ The voices grow louder, in both chaos and volume, screaming now, like the tortured souls that they are.

 _"TELL THEM. TELL THEM. TELL THEM."_

The noise is everywhere, in my head, screaming, my ears muted to everything but the moaning cries, _the angel names, the angel names, THE ANGEL NAMES-_

I snapped awake, and it all stopped, the lost echoes of names circling in my head.

I waited for my own scream, but it never came, as it never did after these nightmares.

My breath came deep, filling my lungs with the cold, fresh night air.

I had to think about this. There was one thing that was obvious to me. I should _not_ tell them. That was what Crowley wanted. I didn't want to ask Cas myself, either though. I didn't want to confront him, if he didn't want to tell me.

But, at the same time, not knowing was driving me insane.

Not to mention, if I told now, I would have to confess that I'd known that Cas knew for a month before I told on him. That would seriously hurt my trust points.

But, these dreams were my undoing. I couldn't sleep (which was, coincidentally, one of my favorite things to do). Not even the presence of the boys could keep them away any more, apparently.

There was only one thing left to do.

It was part of my plan, anyway. Just moving it ahead a little bit.

I had to go after Crowley myself.

 _Now._ Before I lost my conviction.

The only way to summon a demon that I knew of was at a crossroads.

So what if Crowley wasn't the demon to show up?

He would be, if he wanted me out of the safety of Bobby's property so badly. I had to go at least that far, to keep away from the house. Not to mention how Bobby had threatened to skin me alive if I ever summoned something on his land. If the demon wasn't Crowley, then I would just exorcise it and keep on going until it _was_ him.

But it would be him. It _had_ to be.

The nearest crossroads was only a mile away.

I got what I needed, my angel blade concealed, and the stuff for the spell, and hit the road, taking my car and leaving the house as quietly as the mouse under Bobby's fridge.

Bone from a black cat. Graveyard dirt. Photograph of myself. The ingredients for the summoning had practically called to me. While they all had been in Bobby's house, they were nearly hidden, located in the most random places, away from the normal spell supplies. Through even that, I had found them with little trouble, not even quite looking.

They were just waiting for me.

These ingredients had caused everyone in the house strife and tragedy, and they were not anxious to see their results repeated.

It wasn't long before I pulled to the side of the road, and parked the car, putting everything together in a small box before opening the door and slamming it behind me.

The dirt of the center of the road felt cool and dry in my hands, the air chilled in the absence of sun.

The moon shone above, and I could tell that it was full without looking, its light illuminating the dusty road, stretching out in every direction as far as the eye could see.

When the hole was deep enough, I stood back and took a deep breath.

 _I was going to do it._

I was going to kill Crowley and finally be safe, finally prove myself.

I looked one final time at the picture of me in the box, a copy of the photo that Bobby had used to make my driver's license.

Closing the lid, I carefully placed the box in the ground, and used my shoes to kick the dusty earth back into the hole.

There was nothing left to do but hope.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXX**

I jumped when he spoke, because I hadn't felt him coming. I should have been able to tell that he was there from more than a mile away. Should have seen him before I felt him there.

But I _didn't._

It shocked me, the warm breath against my ear, someone so close to me that I could smell their cologne. The demon must have been incredibly powerful to have flown under the radar.

"I've been waiting," I said to the darkness around me.

There came a soft laugh from the dealer.

"I know."

He stepped around me into the moonlight, and for a moment, I wondered if he even was a demon at all. I certainly couldn't see his true form. Taller than me by quite a bit, he might have beaten out Dean, but not Sam, still what looked like an older teenager, maybe eighteen, wearing somewhat odd formal clothes. Lean and graceful, he stood with a posture that was straight and relaxed, and had dark hair that was a little bit long. He had elegant features, high cheekbones and delicate lips, although his eyes were the most stunning. They were a pure gold, deep and metallic, reflecting the light of the moon, shining with... Amusement?

Decidedly _not_ Crowley.

"King of the Crossroads. Pleased to meet you, Lily. What can I do for you today?" He asked, using a soft British accent.

"Where's Crowley?" I asked, straight to the point.

"Busy. Your problems can't ruin _all_ of our lives, dear. He sent me to look after you."

"And you are?" I asked, curious as to just who Crowley could trust.

"Jack. Like I said before, I'm rather important among demons. A _King_. You should feel quite fortunate to have me of all people assigned to your case," he said, with full confidence.

I thought about asking for a last name, but decided that it might be rude, considering some demons didn't have one at all.

"I thought that Crowley was the King of the Crossroads?" I asked, wondering why he hadn't shown.

"He was, a while ago. When he took the throne of hell, he promoted me. I never wanted the job. King of anything makes more enemies than the title's worth," he seemed so normal, just any guy who might have randomly struck up conversation.

 _No. Demon. Exorcise him._

"That exorcism won't work by the way. I've come prepared. I've had this vessel for some time, and I don't plan on giving it up now," as he spoke, he rolled up his sleeve and showed a dark mark on his arm. "Binding charm."

He was one step ahead. But while he wasn't paying attention, I had crept closer, and now had my knife ready in my hand, the cool metal weight just as it always had been. This was what I had practiced for.

"Just makes sending you back to hell that much easier," I said, stabbing him in the heart, the blade going in to the hilt, my wrist pushing it in with a bit of a twist and letting go, as I stumbled back a step.

He smiled.

"Oh, that's _quite_ good. You're even better than he said you would be," he said, pulling the knife out and studying it. It left no mark, but was covered in his blood.

I stepped back, almost in shock. He should not have been able to live through that. Demon or no. An _angel_ couldn't even live through that.

He wiped off the blood on the sole of his boot.

"Although, I must say, terribly forward."

"Can't blame a girl for trying," I responded with a smirk, searching for anything to say through my surprise.

"But I can lay blame for failing. Congratulations, you have officially _not_ killed your first demon," he joked.

"Thanks, it means a lot," I replied, sarcastically. I realized that I now had very few chances of getting to Crowley now, without making a deal.

"Should we get down to business, then, or do I have to try shooting you next?" I asked. I hadn't brought the Colt. It had been locked up in the vault under Bobby's bed, so I hadn't wanted to risk trying to get it. I cursed myself for it now.

"And why would you do a thing like that? I'm only here to help," he replied, putting his hands in his pockets and tilting his head to the side, curiously.

"Help? With what? Transportation to hell?" I asked cynically.

"If that's what you want. But I get the feeling that you're hoping for more than a new cab." He stood back and looked at me for a moment, almost appraisingly.

"You want your parent's names, and a crack at Crowley as well, yes?" He asked, immediately somehow seeing what I was going to ask for.

"For my soul, naturally," I replied, agreeing. It was a good thing that the demon had showed up in such a great vessel. All deals were sealed with a kiss.

"That's where I'm afraid you're wrong. And such a pity too. You do have _such_ a _darling_ soul. I'd have loved to claim it." His face was a little sad, but more mischievous.

"And exactly why can't I?" I asked, just a bit ticked off. Just my luck.

"An expert as I am with souls, I'm afraid that yours is not yours to give," Jack replied, smiling with almost melancholy, really regretting not being able to take it.

"What do you mean?" I asked, incredulous.

"Your father has sealed off your soul to prevent you from selling it to Hell. Terribly sorry about that, but it wasn't my idea," he replied.

I sighed.

"Great. And I'm willing to bet that you're not gonna let go of that information for free." I grumbled.

"Nothing is ever free. But you can get it for a... different price," he replied, slightly mysterious, his bright, golden eyes finding mine. I knew that it was stupid, but what was worse than giving away your soul? And I could at least find out what it was before making the deal.

"What kind of price?" I asked.

"Well, I won't even _mention_ your first option, because then, I daresay that Sam and Dean really _would_ kill me," his smirk widened, and I caught the sense that I really, really didn't want to know what that choice was.

"But your next package is much more affordable. You see, I'm bound to Crowley with a contract similar to the one that you wished to make with me. The difference is that he's not as- _kind_ as I am, and I have had quite enough with serving him. If you wish, you must learn how to break my contract with him and free me," he said.

"And you'll hold up your end of the bargain if I do?" I asked, carefully.

"Well, I can't guarantee a shot at Crowley just yet, but I'm not sure that you would want one just now, seeing as you can't even kill me. As for your parents, that can be easily arranged."

I liked this deal so far, so there had to be a catch.

"How long do I have?" I asked.

"As long as you like, if I have your word that you will solve it eventually," he replied, simply.

"And if I don't ever, or give up?" I asked.

"Good question. Well, I can't have your soul, so I suppose that you'll have to take my place for the rest of eternity. As Crowley's second in command." I would have to complete the task, then.

"How difficult will it be?" I asked.

"No idea. Part of the adventure. Oh, and no help on this one, or I'll consider our deal broken. Sam and Dean will have to sit out."

It seemed fair enough. Although, god knows dealing with a demon wasn't exactly meant to be fair in itself.

I took a deep breath. Sam and Dean were going to _kill_ me.

If they ever found out.

I walked closer to Jack, ready to make my decision.

"I'll do it. I'll learn what your contract is, and break it, if you tell me who my parents are, and make sure that I can eventually pay Crowley back."

He laughed softly under his breath. "Good."

We kissed.

His lips were soft and warm, and it seemed that he held on for a few moments longer than was absolutely necessary.

Or, maybe that was me.

It felt almost like a knot being pulled, something binding us together. The deal. But after that, there was a kind of careful hunger, something somehow... Wanting more.

It was strange. Normally, around demons, I could sense their presence with a revulsion in my stomach, a sick, poisoned feeling that there was something evil near. With Jack, I didn't feel anything like that, something instead cold, but bright, alive... I couldn't explain it, except with a possibility.

What if Jack _wasn't_ a demon?

The kiss ended, and I stepped back, surveying him with the thought, noticing the smirk he still wore over his smile.

"Alright, my dear, just hold on for the ride. Everything will be clear in a few minutes. And remember, no telling anyone about our little deal."

It hit me about what I had just done, made a deal with a demon. And now I would find out who my parents were. But-

"Why don't you just tell me?" I asked, confused as to why he was watching down the road the way I had come.

"Because this is the way that I want it," he replied simply.

I could hear an engine coming up the road.

Oh, _shit_.

"Oh my god, they are going to _murder_ me," I groaned.

Jack seemed to think that was _very_ funny.

"I doubt that they'll kill you. They'll probably want to kill me more," he mused. "Just pretend that you can't see them for now."

I turned my back on the road, just as the Impala pulled up. The passenger door opened, and Dean came flying out.

"Lil, get down!" He shouted. I ducked, and a round loaded with salt whisked over my head, hitting Jack in the shoulder. He winced.

I could tell that he was acting.

Dean rushed over and took advantage of his opponent's shock, choking Jack.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked.

Jack retained his composure, but vanished and appeared a few feet away, hands in the air, in a position of surrender. Dean backed up, and trained his gun on Jack's head. He didn't attempt to move closer or tackle the demon again, maybe realizing that Jack would move too quickly.

"A public service. But since you're here, I might as well tell you who her parents are," he said, making it sound like he was hoping to negotiate for his life.

"Alright then, jackass, start talking."

Sam had gotten out of the car and helped me up.

"Well, I'm not allowed to tell, you see. But Castiel knows. Ask him."

And with that, Jack vanished into thin air, leaving me with a livid pair of Winchesters.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Get in the car. We'll talk about this when we get home."

Sam drove my car, and I sat shotgun in the Impala next to a seriously pissed off Dean, still in his pajamas.

I can't say I was even surprised by the turn of events.

The ride was not held in torturous silence, as I'd hoped it might have been.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking, Lily? You could have _died_."

"Yeah, but I didn't, Dean, did I? Still here. Alive and well, just so you can beat my ass for finally trying to get some information on my parents," I replied snappily, more than a little pissed that I hadn't been smart enough to deal for only the information, not the name of the person who I already knew had it.

"Is that what this little stunt is about? Lil, we were working on getting them. We would have found out eventually," Dean replied, still practically steaming.

"You gave up! You and Sam went back to hunting. You had your shot. There was nothing to find, and nothing left for me to do!"

"There's a hell of a lot more to do before you sell your soul to a demon. And that's a fact. What the hell did he mean when he said Cas knows?" Dean asked, to no one in particular.

"I'm only explaining once. Wait until we're all inside and he can't hear us. It's hard to ward something moving," I said, as we pulled into the now familiar salvage lot.

I was marched into the house and deposited in an armchair in the living room, where Bobby was waiting, looking severely angry.

Everyone else filed in, and all eyes were on me. I began by telling them how I was warding the room to keep anyone from listening. Then I waited for their cue.

"You wanna explain yourself, Lilyanna Michaels?" Dean asked.

I sighed.

"Yes."

I broke down the walls that had been keeping all of the information in, and let go of everything. That Crowley had told me about Cas. Why I didn't trust him enough to ask Cas myself. How the dreams started when they were away, and always got worse, until my only hope of relief was to go hunting with them, or learn who my parents were, or both.

I told them about my dream tonight, the woman, my mother, screaming to me, a vision. Their anger softened as I told them what had happened, and the motivation behind my decision.

Finally, I stopped. Then I got criticized by everyone for resorting to demons for help. They still reached out to me, told me I should have come to them first.

There was a chilly silence for a moment before anyone else spoke.

"Did you make a deal?" Dean asked, the question of the hour. I was almost an accusation.

The lie was on my lips before I could think about it. In fact, even my thoughts jumped away. I figured that I couldn't tell even if I wanted to.

"No. I can't sell my soul. My father has it sealed off. I didn't even _try_ before the demon told me."

"And you weren't going to try?" Sam asked.

"No. I was gonna kill whoever showed up, until it was Crowley. Then end him once and for all. I was about to gank that one before you stopped me." The angel blade was back in it's sheath by my hip. I pulled it out and laid it on the table. It hadn't been given back to me, just reappeared by my side.

"Idjit," Bobby muttered, seemingly giving up on being angry any longer.

"Looks like we got lucky for once," Dean grumbled, rubbing his hands into his face. Everyone was a bit sleepy now, looking at him to see what we should do. He look a deep breath, and looked up.

"I guess we've got to talk to Cas."

I dropped the warding, and Cas zapped in without invitation.

"Cas," Dean started, getting up and walking over to the trench-coated angel, and staring him down. Dean was still very intimidating, despite the flannel pajama pants. "You've got some explaining to do."

Cas looked a bit upset.

"I figured that this moment would come."

"Yeah? For how friggin long?"

"Dean, let me explain. Things are much worse than you understand."

"Well then start talking." Dean said, sitting back down, and watching Cas expectantly.

"I've known who Lilyanna's father was from the moment I saw her. After I entered her mind, that is. She is marked by him. It is invisible to human eyes, but is meant to keep angels from harming her, and even for them to come to her aid, should she be in need. And it took me longer to discover her mother. But from the vessels that her father has taken in recent times-"

"Cut to the chase. We're all getting a little sleepy here, pal," Dean interrupted, when he realized he was starting to drift off.

Cas sighed.

"I did not know how you would take the news, or how she would, but I assumed that it would not be taken well. I only hid this for all of your protection," Cas said, gravely.

"But who is it?" Sam asked. Cas' thoughts about how the news would be received did not seem to bode well with him.

"I'm warning you, you may not be glad to know." Cas replied.

We all just stared at him, until he sighed again.

"Very well."

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"An archangel does not often take a vessel. Michael does even less than most. But when they do choose a vessel, they become very deeply bonded with both the body and mind of their host. In most cases, they function best if their thoughts can become one, as well as their bodies, although this was not the case for you, Sam. It is in fact, part of the reason why you were able to defeat the devil. He was not able to use the full extent of his power, because you were not in allegiance with him. However, it is my belief, that the last time that Michael took a vessel, they were aligned so well that Michael also loved the wife of the man who he shared a body with. I have discovered that on occasion, he took possession of this man, simply to look after his wife, and later the couple's children, to stop supernatural forces that attacked them, or grew too close for comfort. It was, I believe, on one of these occasions that Lilyanna was conceived."

My mind was racing. Other children? I had siblings? Brothers, or sisters?

Sam, Dean, and Bobby were still listening intently, though Cas had paused.

"Michael is the girl's father. The wife of his last vessel was named Mary. Lilyanna's parents are John and Mary Winchester."

 _And on that bombshell, we end the chapter. Thanks for all of the reading and reviewing! I know that Jack isn't in the series, but I have really enjoyed writing for him so far, so you're just going to have to deal. He's gonna be very important in the coming chapters. I think._

 _***Also really sorry about that weirdness that happened the last time I tried to submit this chapter. Like what the actual heck? Anyway, here it is (hopefully) fixed._


	20. Save your Apologies

I suddenly felt very conspicuous sitting there in the living room, all eyes avoiding mine.

Dean was the first to react, as usual.

"What?" he seemed almost incapable of human speech.

"That's not possible, mom died before she had any more kids, she couldn't have-"

"I have told you before. Lily was not born as a normal child. She was very small when Michael saved her from the flames within your home. He could not save your mother. It was the best that he could do. The baby was then kept somewhere safely where she didn't age. Then, she was raised by surrogate parents who could ensure that she grew to be her full potential, until she ended up here. With family once more."

"And you've known. _This whole time_." The idea seemed to have sunk in with Dean. He was coping, alright.

"Not at first." Cas continued, not quite realizing that this was a bad thing, instead a little bit pleased at how well he had figured it out.

"But when I saw her, I could see you. She has your eyes, Dean."

Sam's mouth opened and he gasped a bit. It seemed he had finally figured out how I was familiar to him.

Dean let out a low breath, realizing that it was true.

"Holy..."

"This reaction is much better than I anticipated. I suspected you to be much more... Upset by Michael's intrusion into your family." Cas admitted. "I also can admit to thinking that Lily might not be pleased with you for imprisoning her father in hell."

No one said anything for a minute, but all eyes were on me to see if I was actually angry about this.

I shrugged.

"I don't care. It seems to me that he was acting pretty douchey, so he probably deserved it. Either way, he hasn't spent a moment actually fathering me so, I couldn't care less now as long as I have you guys," I replied.

"In truth, I only withheld this information to spare all of you the trouble that I knew the discovery would cause. I am truly sorry for my actions." Cas bowed his head.

I was okay with him for doing it. I knew what it felt like to lie to someone for their safety, and so I was already ready to forgive and forget, but I sensed that the apology was more for Sam and Dean than it was for me.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. Lily wanted to sell her soul to find that out. Sell her soul to _hell_ , Cas. What else do you know that we don't? Or am I gonna have to find out from someone who I can trust more? Like maybe, a _demon_." Dean was not letting this go.

"I deserve your anger, but you must understand. Before Michael fell into the pit, he left one final order. It has stopped the angels from erupting into a civil war, but not for long. I hoped to keep Lilyanna from being caught in the middle of it. By revealing her parents, she will now be at a greater risk from other angels as well as demons. She would be a powerful weapon, or bargaining chip if in the wrong hands. I do not need to tell you that angels are capable of reading minds, and now there are four more places where the information could be leaked from."

"What does it matter who knows who she is, if she's going to be killed by hellhounds anyway?" Dean argued, still unwilling to admit that Cas was at least partially right.

"No, that's not all Cas' fault. I should have known better than to go after Crowley. And, Dean, I was not going to sell my soul. Just kill some demons like I was _made_ to, unlike what I'm actually _allowed_ to do. I got bored." It had taken a lot of guts to even open my mouth, much less to stand up against Dean, but once I started, I couldn't help but complain a little. It wasn't just Cas.

It was his fault too, for keeping me out.

"Bored is _not_ an excuse right now. You could have died out there, and even if you had gotten to Crowley, he wouldn't have come alone. You would have been kidnapped and tortured. Just because you can't sell your soul, doesn't mean that they can't put you through hell on earth." He was looking me in the eyes, trying to get me to see the severity of the crime I had committed.

I shivered. Torture hadn't even come to mind.

"I realize that now," I repented. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

I tried to look near to tears.

Dean's expression softened.

"It had better not." He hesitated for a minute, and pulled me into a comforting hug. Now, I really did feel guilty. I shouldn't have acted so rashly, and should have at least talked to Cas before going to the crossroads. And there was still the whole lying about the deal I made thing that I was doing. _Oops._

Cas looked relieved and said a quick goodbye.

"Now, are you idjits done for the night? It's still four in the morning, if you hadn't noticed," Bobby accused.

"Sorry." We all mumbled, before heading upstairs.

I was really looking forward to not having any dreams tonight. Would you be surprised to learn that I wasn't that lucky?

 _Sorry that I disappeared for awhile. I was really sick and busy and just in general not in a good state to be posting. Sorry! But anyway, updates won't be as frequent now because I've nearly caught up with the prewritten part. So yeah, hope you all have a lovely evening. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Ta!_


	21. Through the Looking Glass

The minute that my head hit the pillow, I was asleep. And then I was awake again, somewhere totally different, in an office looking like it belonged to someone important. It was huge, with embossed dark red wallpaper, two of the walls actually glass windows, although it was too dark outside of them to see anything. Bookshelves lined a wall behind a huge mahogany desk.

There were two men near it, one sitting in a swivel chair and leaning lazily, the other standing on the other side, ignoring a seat that he could have used, instead propped up against a marble column, long legs crossed, wearing strangely old fashioned clothing...

I realized with a start that I knew both of them.

"Sit down, Jack," Crowley instructed.

"Rather not, thanks," Jack replied, nonchalantly, still leaning on the column.

A moment later, he was in the chair anyway, forced, it seemed against his will.

"You've been a bit naughty tonight, haven't you?" Crowley asked, toying.

"It was just a deal," Jack shrugged.

Crowley stood and walked over to the shelves that were behind him. They were filled with all sorts of oddities, old books, rocks, talismans, leaves, things in jars. What might have been a terrarium holding god only knows what.

"Ah, but I told you not to offer her a deal. And I know that you didn't just forget. You can't break orders."

"I didn't offer the deal," he replied, putting his feet up on Crowley's desk. "She did. Loophole."

"Well. That does put a bit of a wrench in things," Crowley muttered.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"So you were going to do it? Give her what you gave me?"

"Yes and no. She would have had a few less... Liberties." Crowley replied, clearly wondering himself why he didn't do the same thing to the rebellious teenager in front of him. I wondered why he would tell these things to Jack. "And now, because of you, I can't hope to sell her so much as a grape."

"I wish I could say that I was sorry," Jack replied, leaning in his chair and staring absently out the window, only to slowly turn to Crowley. "But I simply can't bring myself to apologize."

"What you should bring yourself to be is _grateful_ that I owed you. Otherwise..." He let the threat linger for a moment.

"You'd what? You can't touch me any more than you can her. Clause 12A."

"There are always loopholes," Crowley replied, unconcernedly.

"If you can find one to torture me, I'll pay you five hundred souls. I made my deal as best I could. Which was pretty damn good."

"Don't remind me."

"I regret that I have to. Let her alone. I'll take care of it."

Crowley paused from searching the bookshelf and laughed.

"You? You really think-" he paused for a minute. There was some kind of exchange, where Jack raised an eyebrow and smirked and Crowley stopped laughing.

I could see the body language, but not read it.

"She's not going to be pleased when she finds out who you are," Crowley replied, relenting, and apparently granting permission for Jack to have his way.

"No one ever is," Jack replied, a little sadly."'S alright, though. There's always you to come crawling back to."

"Just be careful you little bastard." Crowley replied.

These two were almost acting like father and son.

I wondered if that was part of Jack's deal, or was even real. Or if any of this had been. Everything faded to black, and I fell into a deeper state of sleep.

 _So, just a tiny but very important chapter here. I'm really excited to get this back on the road. Anyway. thanks for reading and for all of the positive reviews! Love you all (in a totally not creepy way). Ta!_


	22. Insert Pop Culture Reference Here

The next morning was _not_ pretty.

Everyone was still grumpy, not really ready to think of me as who I truly was.

John and Mary Winchester's daughter.

The words felt strange in my head, and I now wondered why I had bothered to make the deal at all. They were dead. There was no one for me to go back to. And heck, if it had been any two _normal_ people who were still alive, then what would I have done? Showed up on their doorstep and hoped that they would take me in? _Hi, I'm an angsty teenager who is only three quarters your child. I promise I'l ltry really hard not to blow up your whole life with my angel powers. Oh, and did I mention, the king of Hell wants to capture me! Nice to finally meet you!_

Give me a break.

Did I really _need_ to know that Michael was my father to know what I could do?

Nope. Probably not.

And it only served to make me feel crappier over what I'd done, that my deal was nearly for nothing. Although, I had to admit that I was intrigued by Jack. Who could he really be? Why couldn't I see his true form? I would get to find out eventually, which both thrilled and terrified me.

I slept late, and when I first went down to breakfast, the fact that everyone kept looking at me did not help my mood. They kept glancing around, maybe trying to see small ways that I looked like their parents. Ways that I was their sister.

I certainly looked for signs in them. But at least I felt bad about doing it when I caught myself.

Along with everything being different as far as attitude, Bobby seemed to realize that he was now officially my closest-thing-to-a-parental-unit, and was acting as such.

He started off by grounding me.

"Now what'd I tell you about summoning demons? Dammit Lily, you could've killed us all in our sleep. It was lucky I woke up when I heard some raccoons in the trash, or else god knows what would've happened. You're grounded young lady. No phone and no computer for a month. No powers for a week. And I expect you to run twice as far as usual every morning until then. That means waking up an hour earlier."

 _Damn it._ Bobby really knew how to lay down punishment.

Despite Bobby's warnings, I spent the afternoon listening in to the angels, which I figured was only half cheating and using my powers. Cas had mentioned a civil war, and I had wanted dig a little deeper and find out more.

It turned out that I'd dug too deep.

Things weren't going well for Cas, and I had to wonder if there was something that I could do. Surely a child of Michael had their sway. I'd have to ask Cas the next time I saw him, and until then, I'd constantly be worried about his safety. At the very least, it kept me away from the angel network for the rest of the day.

Still, this no powers thing was boring, and I could hardly resist lighting something on fire just for the fun of it.

I settled for practicing guitar, up in my room and contemplating the meaning of life, when Dean came up once again to visit me.

"You, uh, doing okay, Lily?" He was acting like I was a stranger again, after all of the time that we'd grown close. I cursed the knowledge that had changed everything for me.

"Yeah," I lied. I was okay in the way that he was looking for, just not in the way that I was. "Just tired. I'm not sure that knowing actually helps anything, though, After how long I've waited and all I've been through."

"Yeah, well," he replied. "Curiosity's gotten the better of me before too. What matters is that we know who to trust when the fallout hits."

Fallout? Did he know that I'd made a deal and wanted me to tell about it? Well I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

"I know who to trust," I replied. "And I'm never going to doubt them again."

I felt like I sounded stupid, but what I said was true. If I hadn't gone against what Sam, Dean and Bobby had told me, things would have never come down around me.

Dean smiled, mostly in a sad way.

"All right. But we're here for you Lily. If there's anything that you need to talk to us about… Just remember that."

"Thanks, Dean."

He nodded and went on his way, visibly more relaxed, heading downstairs to watch the game.

"How quaint," someone mused from the corner of the room, where Castiel had first appeared a few months ago. It felt like years.

I found out immediately that it was Jack.

 _God damn it, he's snuck up on me again._

"Please don't tell me this is gonna happen all the time now. I really don't need to be in any more trouble than I'm already in," I replied, immediately feeling conscious of the dirty clothes I'd left around the room and the ratty t-shirt I was wearing.

He was lounging in my desk chair, sitting on it backwards like people in the '60s used to, casually.

"Trouble? Who said anything about trouble? I'm just here for a chat," his eyes glinted gold in the twilight glow of the sunset streaming in through the window.

"And for you that means I'm in trouble. Was that you last night? That dream?" I asked, curious.

"It wasn't a dream. That was live. Just because I'm not allowed to tell you my deal doesn't mean that Crowley isn't allowed to," he replied.

"Then why don't you just get him to tell you what it is and how to break it, and then show me _that_ live?" I asked.

"Just because he's old doesn't mean he's stupid. He knows that I'm up to something. I don't think that he cares what as of yet, but should he find out, you'll wish that you had sold your soul to me," he sighed dramatically. I just rolled my eyes.

"Somehow I doubt that. I've spent the last several months on Crowley's most wanted list, and I think the worst thing that's happened was meeting you," I retorted.

It was mostly true. Although towards the end of that time, I hadn't exactly been the _happiest_.

"That's _awfully_ kind of you. Don't spare my feelings next time," he pouted.

"You don't _have_ any real feelings. You're a demon," I replied.

He cocked his head to the side, intrigued.

"I don't know whether to be proud or hurt by that sentiment. I mean, sure, it must mean that I'm an _excellent_ actor, but I'd thought that you were a bit cleverer than that," he raised an eyebrow, almost tauntingly.

"I just needed confirmation," I replied.

He had to be... what, Nephilim then? There was no other explanation. No angel could get through my wardings (or would work with Crowley for that matter), and nothing else that I had studied in lore could even come close to the powers he'd already displayed. For the rarest beings on the planet, there sure were a lot of us cropping up.

"Are you going to make me guess who your parents are then, or will I have to offer you a deal?" I questioned, doing my best impression of him.

He laughed a bit, and I had to hide my grin at the sight of him, relaxed and calm, and laughing at my lame jokes the way that my friends did, back before I had left all for this strange and dangerous life.

"I think that you aren't quite privy to that information just yet. Stick around for a while and we'll see."

Fine. I didn't need to know who his parents were. The last time I had been on a quest for knowledge like that, I had very nearly ended up in hell.

"Hopefully I'll be gone long before then," I responded.

"If you're half as good as you are confident, Michaels, then I'll be out of your life just as soon as you want me to be," he smirked.

"I _already_ want you to be."

"Well, you must _not_ , or I'd be gone," he responded.

"Watch yourself," I warned. "If you're dead, I don't have to keep my end of the deal."

"Haven't you already tried killing me? As I recall, it didn't end up going well," he smirked. He did an awful lot of that apparently.

"That wasn't for lack of trying. I know how to kill you now. Plain and simple," I threatened, my hand going subconsciously to the angel blade at my belt.

"I'm quaking in my boots," he mocked., putting his hands up in surrender.

"Scared of an innocent little girl? You're worse than a demon. You're a _pansy_ ," I taunted.

"I'd like to think I'm more of a buttercup," he replied, rising. "And, by the way, petunia, I meant to mention earlier, but watch out. Something big is coming, and I don't want you caught in the middle of it."

"Cryptic warnings? Please don't tell me that you're going to turn out to be the Angel to my Buffy."

He cocked his head to the side, like he didn't understand my reference. If he was as out of date as his clothes were, it could bee a clue to what his deal had been.

"I'll try not to be too cryptic. Have you heard from Raphael lately over the angel communications?"

I searched my memories, but found that I hadn't. He was one of the ones fighting against Cas, and I'd tried to listen for him especially today, but I hadn't heard anything.

"He's been quiet. But that's a good thing, right?" I asked, confused.

"Not exactly. I've got informants that have told me exactly what he's up to, and its certainly not good. Have Cas look into purgatory. And make sure you do it right away," he instructed, pulling on a low hat from nowhere and putting it on his head, giving it a tip to say goodbye.

"How do I know that this isn't another trick?" I asked, rising,

He began to fade like the Cheshire cat in the old Alice in Wonderland cartoons, fading into the shadows of the room slowly.

"You don't."

 _So I just wrote this chapter and didn't edit it yet, but oh well, here you go. I hope you enjoy it, typos and all. (Even ugly things can be pretty, especially in a dark room). Thanks all for reading and reviewing! Ta!_


	23. Like a Virgin

Tensions were rising.

The angels started to fight physically now, storms sweeping across the country when they clashed, Cas appearing afterwards, occasionally beaten up, always to have a chat with Sam and Dean. I knew it was about me, because I was kept out and warded against.

Apparently Raphael had been caught in cahoots with Crowley, and they had something to do with purgatory, as per the clue that Jack had given me. Sometimes, Cas would leave these meetings looking particularly worn, and would nearly come to talk to me, but he always turned away at the last minute.

I knew what he wanted.

Angel radio was talking about me all the time now, the lost child of Michael who could restore order. I doubted that. These were full blown, ancient beings. What was the power that I had compared to theirs? Raphael had lost a lot of his support when it was revealed that he had made a deal with a demon, but most of those soldiers hadn't converted to Cas' side either, choosing to either remain neutral, or fight on their own.

It was nearly Christmas before things calmed down again. Cas was in a meeting with Dean, and this one was much longer than any previous ones had been.

I was hanging out in the living room, watching a special about narwhals, when the lights flickered. I sat up abruptly.

"Hello, love."

I didn't waste a moment this time around, and tried my best to smite Crowley on the spot. He just laughed.

The room started spinning in a strange way.

"Nice try. Better than last time, at least. But, you still need some work."

"I'm gonna _kill_ you, you psychotic son of a-"

"Normally, I'd let you have another go, but I'd advise you to hold your tongue at the moment, darling. We're about to meet some very important clientele of mine, and I need you to behave."

The room stopped spinning, and suddenly I was in what appeared to be an old subway station, walls a grimy tile, and a lingering smell of mildew on the air.

I was inside of a circle painted on the floor, surrounded by strange runes. Testing my boundaries, I tried to step towards it, and found myself blocked in. I looked up slowly to Crowley watching me.

"Nice joke. I think you know that I don't really like behaving," I replied. Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.  
"Save it," he snapped. He seemed more tense than usual, and it unnerved me a little. Why was he so worried?

An angel walked into the room, and I was immediately taken aback by the power that came with it.

Though trapped in an inferior vessel, it was still Raphael, and he was still pissed.

"Daughter of Michael. Welcome."

"Thanks, but I think you're lacking in the whole hospitality department, so let's cut to the chase. What am I doing here?"

I asked, doing my best imitation of a salty Sam or Dean.

"You are going to defect from Castiel and join my side of the war. You represent your father, and with your support, I will gain the advantage that I need to win."

There was a beat where I considered laughing out loud.

"Yeah, I'm definitely _not_ going to be doing that," I confessed. "If I am truly representing my father, then the last thing that he would want is for _you_ to take control of heaven and eliminate the human race."

"Are you so sure of that, Winchester? If I do recall, during the apocalypse, the last thing your father was worried about was the fate of Earth."

It was the first time that anyone had called me Winchester. Weird.

The fact of the matter was that I didn't really care about what my dad thought, but the angels clearly did, which gave me that much more power.

"Well, if you know Michael so well, then why don't you stand in for him? Oh wait, _that's right_. I'm the only one who can do that. And I say that there is no way that I'm going to help you. Not while you're in alliance with that scum bag." I gestured to Crowley, who saluted. "What do you think my father would say about that, _hmm?_ I doubt that the leader of heaven will be well liked if they got to the top using a demon deal. No, I stand for the side of peace, and not the kind where you're in charge."

I felt pretty well spoken, and I hoped that he got the point of _oh hell no._

"Then we will find another use for you." Raphael picked up an old piece of paper off of a table, and pretended to read.

"Let's see, Crowley, we have nearly everything, yes? What's left?"

"Oh, only a few odds and ends. A new paintbrush for the runes. And the blood of a virgin. A whole girl's worth."

"You wouldn't dare," I replied.

"We do not need to dare. When the ritual is complete, we will have the power to challenge your father, should he ever be released from the pit."

Well, shit.

I tried not to panic.

"Well, how do you know I'm-"

"Don't even _try_ , darling. It won't be worth it." Crowley interrupted.

Huh. I stopped for a minute to think.

"So those are my choices? Abandon my family, or die?"

"That would be exaggerating. They are hardly family. But yes. The decision is yours." Raphael replied.

Okay then. Since I wasn't going to pick either, I needed some time.

"Give me time to make my choice."

"I can grant you that."

Raphael seemed surprised that I was so willing to submit. Crowley on the other hand seemed indifferent.

"All right. You get one day. One. That's it. And don't think we're not watching you. No funny business."

"Promise." I confirmed. Crowley still must not have trusted me, because he left behind two demons as guards while I sat down in the circle.

I tried meditating. Only problem was that I didn't know _how_ to meditate.

Either way, it was evening, and I was beginning to nod off when someone spoke.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Michaels?"

My head shot up, even though neither of the guards noticed.

"Why don't you ask Crowley?" I snapped at Jack, now hardly bothering to be surprised that he was here.

"I probably should. But God knows that then we'd both be in that trap."  
"Why? Raphael want your dad's power too?" I asked.

"Something like that."

There was an admittedly intense silence, where we locked eyes. I again felt the connection between us; a tease of power where there hadn't been one before we met.

I debated asking about his parents. He was about as helpful as dirt though, so I decided not to.

"Well, I think that it might be a bit fairer to even out the odds here. Raphael does have the home field advantage, after all."

"You don't have to," I interrupted, quickly.

"I _want_ to." He replied, scuffing his shoe along some of the runes on the ground. I felt my power come back in a surge as they vanished.

"After all, I can't have my only way out of Crowley's control sacrificed as a virgin. You have so much more... Potential, than that. Ta." He winked and vanished, leaving me blushing furiously, and more glad than ever that he was gone.

* * *

 _Welp. Guess who is soo good at updating their fanfictions. Nope, wrong. Not me at all. Thanks for guessing though. Here's the thing, my school blocked this site so i can only update at home and i have practice more and more often nowadays so- IM SORRY, OKAY? Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for reading and for all of the positive reviews. I seriously love you guys. I hope to update a lot more this week since i'm on holiday. Ta!_

 _**okay so i tried posting this around, like, Christmas, but it didnt go through but here it is now so... IM SORRY_


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